o 


CARROLL    O'DONOGHUE 


A  TALE  OF  THE  IRISH  STRUGGLES  OF  186$, 
AND  OF  RECENT  TIMES. 


CHRISTINE    FABER, 
Authoress  of  "A  Mother's  Sacrifice,"  etc* 


Poor  suffering  Ireland  !  trampled  long, 
Still  art  thou  theme  of  tale  and  song. 


P.  J.  KENEDY  &  SONS 

44  BARCLAY  STREET,  NEW   YORK 


PREFACE. 

THK  following  story  was  written  with  the  hope  of  contribut 
ing  a  little  to  that  literature  which  seeks  to  delineate  faithfully 
the  Irish  character, — the  faults  of  the  latter  have  served  too 
often  as  a  fruitful  theme,  while  its  virtues  were  either  ignored, 
or  so  caricatured  that  they  failed  to  be  appreciated,  or  even 
understood. 

While  the  genial  and  spontaneous  humor  of  the  Irish  peo- 
ple remain  almost  without  a  parallel,  that  very  humor  some- 
times seems  to  obscure  or  conceal  the  heart  depths  beneath  it 
— the  spirit  of  sacrifice  for  loved  ones,  the  intense  affection 
for  kindred,  the  heroic,  and,  in  many  cases,  cheerful  endur- 
ance of  wrongs  they  were  unable  to  rectify. 

Such  are  some  of  the  kindly  qualities  of  the  Irish,  though 
alas !  at  times  marred  by  sad  blemishes  ;  but  side  by  side 
with  these  faults  are  virtues  rare  and  bright,  and  to  depict 
these  virtues,  with  the  hope  of  winning  just  regard  for  a  peo» 
pie  so  long  suffering,  has  been  the  aim  of  the 

AUTHOR. 

NKW  Yo*r,  APRIL,  1881. 


2125735 


CONTENTS 


I.— On  the  Search ,    ...., 7 

II.— A  Singular  Meeting 17 

HI.— Carter's  Proposal 26 

IV. — Captain  Dennier 31 

V. — Mrs.  Carmody 36 

VI.— A  New  Home 42 

VII.— Machinations 55 

VIII.— Father  O'Connor 60 

IX.— The  Dying  Fenian 69 

X.— Shaun 78 

XL— Carter's  Tool 91 

XII.— Imprisoned 98 

XIII.— The  Widow's  Reply 104 

XIV.— Corny  O'Toole 112 

XV.— Captain  Crawford's  Valet 120 

XVI.— Shaun  objects  to  Dublin 128 

XVII.—  Tighe  a  Vohr's  Mouth-piece 134 

XVIII. — Carter's  Insinuations 145 

XIX.  —Disappointed 153 

XX.— A  Street  Arab 160 

XXI.— The  Miser  of  Dhrommacohol 173 

XXII.— Carter  visits  Dublin 183 

XXIII.— Tighe  a  Vohr's  proposal  to  his  Mother 189 

XXIV.— Tighe  secures  a  Horse 195 

XXV.— Mr.  Canty 203 

XXVI.— Mr.  Canty's  Reception 209 

XXVII.— Carroll  sees  his  Friends 215 

XXVIII.— The   Race 223 

XXIX.— Tighe  a  Vohr's  Sweetheart 233 

XXX.— A  Startling  Declaration 248 

XXXI.— Nora  McCarthy's  Sacrifice 257 

XXXII —Carroll's  Trust  in  Carter 369 


CONTENTS. 


XXXIIL— Father  and  Daughter 278 

XXXIV.— Rick's  Discovery , 388 

XXXV.— Carter  Foiled 294 

XXXVI.— Tighe  Explains  to  Captain  Dennier 804 

XXXVII.— The  Trial 806 

XXXVIII.— Carter  Deluded 811 

XXXIX.— Inaendoes 820 

XL.— A  Storm-tossed  Soul .826 

XLI.— Tighe's  Efforts  to  aid  Captain  Dennier's  Courtship 833 

XLIL— Mrs.  Cannody's  Latin  Letter 843 

XLIII.— A  Singular  Interview 849 

XLIV.— Carter  Repulsed 860 

XLV. — A  Criminating  Paper 868 

XLVL— A  Bold  Venture 877 

XLVH.— Cruel  Treachery 886 

XLVIIL— Sacrifice  Bearing  Fruit 893 

XLIX.— Peace  to  a  Storm-tossed  Soul 897 

L.— A  Happy  Meeting 408 

LL— Father  O'Connor's  Tale 407 

Ln.— The  Work  of  a  Spy 430 

Lm.— Father  and  Son 438 

LIV. — The  Summons  to  Dublin 444 

LV.— Carter's  High  Hopes 447 

LVL— Carter  Confronted  with  his  Guilt 454 

LVII.— The  Return  to  Dhrommacohol 470 

LVm,— Convicted  at  Last 480 

LDL— A  Happy  Restoration 489 

UL— Corn/  OToole  ii  Satisfied. , 494 


CARROLL   O'DONOGHUE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

ON   THE   SEARCH. 

IN  one  of  the  wildest  parts  of  Ireland,  where  mountain  and 
morass,  brush  and  woodland  gave  beauty  and  variety  to  the 
scene,  a  company  of  her  Majesty's  soldiers  were  slowly  wend- 
ing their  way. 

It  was  nearly  sunset,  and  viewed  in  the  mellow  splendor  of 
the  dying  day,  the  prospect  had  all  that  softened  beauty  which 
touches  the  heart  with  something  akin  to  pathos,  even  while 
it  wins  to  enthusiastic  admiration.  It  seemed  to  have  such  an 
effect  on  the  rough,  bronzed  fellows  who  were  treading  their 
way  by  the  side  of  the  morass,  for,  from  murmurs  at  the  fate 
which  doomed  them  to  such  useless  and  fatiguing  expeditions, 
and  jokes  at  some  of  their  companions  who  had  been  outdone 
in  individual  exploits  by  the  rascally  Irish,  they  had  become 
suddenly  silent,  their  eyes  wandering  from  object  to  object  of 
the  beautiful  scene,  and  more  than  one  hardened  face  express- 
ing the  softened  emotions  of  a  soul  long  unused  to  any  but 
lawless  impulses.  Their  leader  appeared  the  most  impressed  ; 
his  face,  more  youthful  than  any  of  his  companions',  was  un- 
marked by  the  lines  which  indicate  a  reckless  will  and  disso- 
lute living,  and  his  stern  and  piercing  eyes  had  all  the  candor 
of  a  truthful  heart. 

His  whole  countenance  was  aglow  from  some  secret  feeling, 
(7) 


S  CARROLL  VLVNOOKUS. 

his  step  became  slower,  and  at  lenght,  as  if  orercomc  by  hii 
strange  emotion,  he  paused,  and  brushing  his  hand  over  his 
forehead,  murmured  audibly : 

"  What  does  it  mean — what  are  these  impressions  I  am  try- 
ing to  recall — are  they  only  parts  of  a  lost  dream  ? " 

Roused  by  a  cough  from  one  of  his  men,  the  craving  of 
whose  appetite  had  overmastered  his  desire  to  linger  on  th« 
scene,  he  abruptly  resumed  his  way,  the  glow  fading  from  his 
face  and  his  eyes  resuming  their  stern  and  piercing  expression. 

The  road  began  to  grow  more  tortuous  and  unmarked,  the 
scene  itself  to  become  more  wild  ;  night  was  descending,  and 
even  the  stern  and  reticent  leader  betrayed  a  little  anxiety  as 
he  glanced  about  him  to  discover,  if  possible,  some  cabin  from 
which  he  and  his  men  might  be  directed.  None  appeared  in 
sight,  and  as  he  eagerly  peered  about  him,  the  half  suppressed 
murmurs  of  his  men  fell  upon  his  ears. 

They  were  approaching  what  seemed  to  be  the  ruins  of 
some  ancient  abbey  :  arches,  niches,  and  narrow  pointed 
windows  came  dimly  into  sight,  their  very  outlines  suggesting 
thoughts  of  vivid  and  romantic  interest.  A  few  steps  farther, 
and  the  broken  remains  of  ancient  tombs  strewed  their  way, 
while  the  dense  ivy  that  in  some  places  entirely  covered  the 
moldering  structure,  imparted  a  weird  and  supernatural 
aspect  to  the  scene. 

Suddenly  there  emerged  from  behind  the  broken  remnant 
of  a  wall  which  was  once  part  of  the  castled  dominions  of  the 
lords  of  Kerry  a  strange-looking  form  ;  bounding  forward 
until  it  reached  the  side  of  the  officer  in  command,  it  gave  a 
cry  so  wild  that  every  man  of  the  little  detachment  was 
brought  to  a  sudden  and  somewhat  alarmed  halt. 

The  form  was  that  of  a  man  of  medium,  slender  stature, 
and  a  head  much  sunken  between  high,  drooping  shoulders  ; 
it  was  clothed  in  such  grotesque  garb,  and  the  countenance 
expressed  so  much  stupid  bewilderment,  that  even  the  stern 
leader  was  provoked  to  a  smile. 

44  Who  are  you  ?  "  he  asked. 


ON  THE  BSAROS.  9 

"Eyeh  !  "  was  the  reply,  accompanied  by  an  idiotic  lolling 
of  the  head. 

Presuming  that  the  strange  being  might  be  deaf,  the  officet 
repeated  his  question. 

The  man  shook  back  the  coarse  hair  that  hung  almost  ovet 
his  eyes,  and  stood  erect 

"  Is  it  who  I  am  you're  askin'  ?  maybe  it  would  be  manners 
to  tell  me  who  ye  are,  seein'  that  ye  don't  belong  to  this  part 
of  the  country  at  all." 

Willing  to  humor  the  singular  being  for  the  sake  of  being 
guided  perhaps  to  their  destination  by  him,  the  officer  replied  : 

"  Well,  my  man,  we  are  a  part  of  her  Majesty's Regi- 
ment, sent  to  Ireland  to  keep  the  peace  between  the  Fenians 
and  the  queen's  loyal  subjects.  We  have  happened  to  get  in 
this  confounded  spot  to-night  because  we  have  lost  our  way  ; 
if  you  will  lead  us  back  to  the  garrison  at  Tralee  you  shall  be 
well  rewarded." 

"  With  what  ? "  and  the  comically  stupid  look  accompanying 
the  question  again  provoked  the  officer's  smile. 

"  With  a  good  supper,  and  perhaps  what  you  will  like  as 
well,  or  better,  a  glass  of  good  whisky." 

"  I  dun  na,"  was  the  reply,  "  mebbe  it's  wanting  me  to  turn 
informer  you'd  be  when  you'd  get  me  into  your  clutches." 

"  No,"  was  the  answer,  "  that  shall  lie  with  yourself  ;  if  you 
have  information  which  is  of  use  to  her  Majesty's  government 
and  wish  to  tell  it,  you  shall  be  well  paid  for  it ;  but  if  you  do 
not  choose  to  do  so  you  shall  be  free  to  leave  us  when  you 
will,  only  guide  us  out  of  here," 

The  stranger  still  hesitated,  gazing  at  each  in  turn  of  the 
men,  who  had  somewhat  forgotten  their  fatigue  and  their 
anxiety  to  reach  their  quarters,  in  the  interest  and  amusement 
afforded  by  this  novel  scene. 

"  Will  you  pledge  me  your  word  of  honor,  then,  that  you 
will  do  me  no  harrum,  neither  now  nor  again  ? "  he  said  at 
last,  turning  his  eyes  full  upon  his  questioner,  and  extending 
a  brown,  knotty  and  horny  hand.  Captain  Dennier  of  her 


Majesty'*  •  — — »  shrunk  a  little  from  the  proffered  grasp  ;  his 
fastidious  taste  and  innate  haughtiness  could  hardly  yield  to 
guch  close  contact  with  the  being  before  him,  and  it  was  a 
second  or  two  before  he  suffered  his  own  aristocratic,  shapely 
hand  to  lie  in  the  horny  palm. 

"  It's  to  the  garrison  you  want  to  go,"  pursued  the  strange 
man ;  "  well  this  is  the  road  to  Ardfert,  and  Tralee  is  a  good 
five  miles  beyant, — but  follow  me,  and  I'll  have  you  there  in 
no  time,  or  my  name  is  not  Rick  of  the  Hills."  Rick's  "  no 
time,"  as  he  had  expressed  it,  lengthened  itself  to  what  seemed 
to  the  tired  and  hungry  men  an  undue  period,  and  at  moments 
when  there  seemed  to  be  no  termination  to  the  tortuous  path, 
and  no  more  sign  of  habitation  in  the  wild  spot  than  there 
had  been  at  the  beginning  of  the  journey,  Captain  Dennier 
and  his  men  grew  impatient,  and  even  a  little  anxious  lest 
their  wild  guide  might  be  playing  them  false. 

"Look  here,  my  man,"  the  captain  said  at  last,  "there's 
something  wrong  about  this  ;  you  are  not  keeping  your  word 
with  ue." 

"  Whisht !  "  was  the  reply,  accompanied  by  a  gesture  com- 
manding silence,  "  don't  let  your  voice  be  heard  in  this  place, 
or  maybe  you'd  have  more  company  than  would  be  to  youi 
liking," 

The  officer,  though  a  man  of  tried  courage,  quailed  for  a 
moment  at  the  words  of  his  guide.  His  hand  sought  the  hilt 
of  his  sword,  and  his  eyes  tried  more  anxiously  to  pierce  the 
gloom  of  the  night.  All  the  wild  stories  which  he  had  heard, 
even  over  camp-fires  in  India,  of  the  places  of  concealment 
afforded  to  the  Irish  by  the  very  wildness  of  their  country, 
and  of  the  lengths  to  wnich  desperation  occasionally  drove 
them,  came  before  him  now.  His  fears  for  the  instant  roused 
into  fancied  being  a  hundred  lawless,  despairing  wretches 
swooping  down  from  the  very  hills  beside  which  they  were 
walking,  and  hurling  death  to  every  man  of  the  little  party 
Then  also,  the  disturbed  and  excited  state  of  the  times,  owing 
to  those  troubles  to  which  Irish  grievances  have  ever,  undei 


ON  THE  SEARCH.  II 

some  form  or  other,  given  being,  arose  before  him  in  vivid 
and  distressing  pictures.  Wild  reports  of  an  anticipated  gene- 
ral Fenian  rising  had  already  reached  him,  and  knowing  that 
they  were  in  that  very  part  of  the  country  where  the  young  and 
daring  Captain  O'Connor  secreted  his  followers  in  the  fast- 
nesses of  the  mountains,  he  became  each  moment  more  certain 
of  being  attacked. 

Rick  of  the  Hills,  a  little  in  advance  of  the  soldiers,  kept 
steadily  on  his  way.  He  seemed  so  sure  of  the  road,  tortuous 
as  it  was,  that  he  looked  neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left 
of  him,  and  only  occasionally  peered  ahead. 

The  path  at  last  became  broader  and  widened  into  one  that 
appeared  to  lead  into  some  hamlet  or  town.  The  soldierSj 
relieved  from  the  oppression,  gloom,  and  wildness  of  the 
scenes  of  the  last  few  hours,  recovered  their  spirits,  and  their 
leader,  recognizing  by  certain  landmarks  that  the  garrison- 
town  was  not  far  distant,  ceased  to  grasp  his  sword. 

They  arrived  at  the  barracks,  from  one  quarter  of  which 
as  they  approached  they  could  hear  the  sound  of  distant 
revelry.  The  step  of  the  guard  as  he  paced  his  rounds  was 
lost  in  the  quick,  heavy  tramp  of  the  approaching  band.  A 
halt  was  demanded,  the  countersign  given  by  Captain  Den- 
nier,  and  the  soldiers,  with  Rick  in  their  midst,  passed  within 
the  barracks. 

"  I  am  much  obliged  to  you,  my  man,"  said  the  captain, 
turning  to  the  strange  guide  as  his  men  were  about  to  file  into 
the  guard-room,  "  and  you  shall  have  all  that  I  promised." 
His  eyes  turned  for  a  moment  as  if  in  search  of  some 
attendant  to  whom  he  might  consign  Rick,  and  at  that  instant 
a  man  in  civilian  dress,  who  had  been  standing  in  an  angle  of 
the  wall  watching  the  scene  with  peculiar  interest,  darted  for- 
ward and  responded  as  if  in  answer  to  the  officer's  look. 

"  I  know  something  of  this  man,  captain  ;  I  will  take  charge 
of  him," 

"  Oh  thank  you,  Carter,  then  I  transfer  him  to  you  ;  you 
know  the  ways  of  the  barrack  sufficiently  to  provide  for  his 


st  CARROLL  VDONOGHUB. 

being  treated  well,  and  being  permitted  to  leave  when  he  will  ;* 
and  Captain  Dennier  turned  away. 

The  man  addressed  as  Carter  beckoned  Rick  to  follow  him. 
They  traversed  a  long  hall  until  a  turn  brought  them  into 
a  narrower  and  Shorter  passage,  from  beyond  which  came 
plainly  the  sounds  of  uproarious  mirth.  Here  he  who  had 
been  addressed  as  Carter  stopped  suddenly,  and  wheeling 
round  upon  his  companion,  just  where  the  light  from  a  pendent 
lamp  brought  his  round,  red  face  and  constantly  working 
eyes  into  distinct  view,  he  hissed  rather  than  said  :  "  You 
devil's  imp,  what  brings  you  here?"  Rick  shook  himself 
erect,  and  going  so  close  to  the  speaker  that  his  breath  fanned 
the  latter's  countenance,  he  answered  in  a  tone  of  mingled 
passion  and  defiance  : 

"To  watch  you,  Morty  Carter,  and  lo  foil  your  ends." 

M  You'll  never  do  it;  you  and  them  you're  serving  shall  feel 
the  weight  of  my  fury — I  have  sworn  it — do  you  understand  ? 
and  I  would  come  from  my  grave  to  have  revenge  on  Carroll 
O'Donoghue." 

"  Spare  yourself,"  retorted  Rick,  "  for  you'll  fall  yourself 
into  the  trap  you're  layin';  you  thought  to  win  when  you  gave 
the  information  which  set  them  beyant,"  making  a  gesture 
toward  where  he  had  left  Captain  Dennier's  men,  "  on  the 
search  they  were  after  when  I  met  them.  But  did  you  suc- 
ceed ?  Have  a  care,  Morty  Carter,  that  your  treachery  doesn't 
betray  yourself  into  a  worse  pit  than  that  you'd  dig  for  those 
that  never  harmed  you." 

The  round  red  face  glowering  beneath  the  lamp  grew  more 
florid,  and  the  hands  hanging  by  his  side  clenched  and  drew 
themselves  up  as  if  they  would  have  felled  the  audacious 
•peakei.  "  What  proof  have  you  that  /  gave  the  informa- 
tion ? "  he  hissed. 

"  This  proof — you  were  at  Carrick  Hurley's  the  other  night 
— you  swore  to  die  in  the  cause  you  intended  to  betray,  and 
then  you  came  straight  here  and  gave  the  information  which 
sent  Captain  Dennier  and  his  men  on  the  search  they  were 


ON  THE  SEARCH.  SJ 

after  to-night,  and  only  the  boys  were  on  the  watch,  the  sol- 
diers would  have  caught  another  fox  than  the  one  they  wen! 
to  hunt." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  said  Carter. 

"  I  mean  that  Carroll  O'Donoghue  would  have  been  in  their 
clutches  but  for  the  watch  of  the  boys." 

Carter  staggered  against  the  wall,  his  face  becoming  of  an 
ashen  hue,  and  his  hands  falling  helpless  by  his  side  :  "  Carroll 
O'Donoghue  here  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  in  Ireland — good  God  !  " 

"  Yes,  here  to  bring  you  to  an  account,"  pursued  Rick, 
striding  to  him  ;  "here  to  see  that  justice  is  done  to  the  inno- 
cent beings  you  would  rob  ;  here  to  give  the  lie  to  your  actions. 
What  have  you  to  say  now,  Morty  Carter  ?  " 

"This,"  said  the  latter,  straightening  himself,  and  seeming 
to  recover  his  previous  arrogant  manner  :  "  I  shall  be  as  a 
hound  upon  Carroll  O'Donoghue's  track — I  shall  unearth 
him,  though  he  were  hidden  miles  under  ground,  and  I  shall 
hunt  him  to  his  death." 

The  sounds  of  mirth  each  moment  more  continuous  and 
prolonged,  now  swelled  into  shouts  of  laughter,  which  a  sud- 
denly opened  door  sent  with  startling  distinctness  to  the  ears 
of  the  two  angry  speakers,  and  fears  of  some  unbidden  spec- 
tator coming  upon  the  scene  made  both  men  anxious  to  with- 
draw. Warned  by  approaching  steps,  Carter  turned  in  the 
direction  of  the  boisterous  merriment,  closely  followed  by 
Rick. 

In  a  moment  both  men  were  within  the  canteen  whence  the 
laughter  proceeded  ;  it  was  a  large,  irregularly  shaped  apart- 
ment, against  the  walls  of  which,  on  wooden  shelves,  stood 
various  pewter  mugs  and  quarter  pitchers,  while  about  the 
room  in  scattered  places  were  several  beer  casks.  The  sol- 
diers themselves  were  dispersed  in  groups,  those  who  had 
formed  a  portion  of  Captain  Dennier's  company  being  dis- 
tinguished from  their  companions  by  certain  marks  which 
they  bore  of  their  recent  journey.  The  majority  seemed  to  be 
drinking,  and  it  was  from  those  who  appeared  to  be  most 


,4  CARROLL  CTDONOOHUB. 

under  the  influence  of  the  potations  that  the  boisterous  mirth 
proceeded. 

Deep  in  the  mysteries  of  the  stimulating  cup,  no  one  ap- 
peared to  notice  the  entrance  of  Carter  and  his  companion 
till  the  former  had  ushered  Rick  into  the  midst  of  one  of  th« 
noisy  groups,  and  had  repeated  the  instructions  of  Captain 
Dennier.  The  soldiers,  half  in  their  cups,  gazed  with  amused 
interest  on  the  uncouth-looking  being  introduced  to  them, 
and  one,  eager  to  provoke  fun  out  of  the  strange  character, 
wvid  with  a  tone  of  cockneyism,  "  So  you  are  one  of  these 
d Hirish  that  we  are  hexpected  to  ketch,  are  you  ?  " 

A  look  of  intense  disgust  passed  over  Rick's  features,  and 
his  deep-set  eyes  gleamed  beneath  their  shaggy  brows  while 
he  retorted, 

14  And  you  are  one  of  these  Hinglish  "  mimicking  the  other, 
"  that  didn't  ketch  us  yet,  though  you're  scouring  the  country 
this  while  back." 

The  half-maudlin  soldier  was  nettled  by  the  reply ;  rising 
from  his  seat,  he  said  in  a  tone  that  he  strove  to  render 
authoritative  :  "  Look  here,  you  feller,  be  careful  how  you 
speak  to  one  of  her  Majesty's  soldiers." 

"  Then  do  you  be  careiul  to  be  civil  to  your  betters,"  an- 
swered Rick,  nothing  daunted. 

Carter,  knowing  the  outspoken  and  vindictive  character  of 
Rick  of  the  Hills,  and  fearing  a  quarrel  which  might  result 
unpleasantly  to  himself,  stepped  between  the  wordy  combat- 
ants, and  with  a  whisper  to  the  soldier  quieted  him.  He 
dropped  into  his  seat,  but  not  without  a  glowering  look  at 
Rick  and  a  muttered  : 

"  The  next  time  we  meet  you  shall  know  what  it  is  to  have 
cheeked  an  English  soldier." 

Rick  promptly  responded  :  "  And  the  next  time  we  meet 
may  be  you'll  feel  what  it  is  to  have  insulted  an  Irishman." 

Carter,  now  really  alarmed,  savagely  caught  Rick  and  foxed 
him  out  of  the  group. 

44  You  imp  of  the  devil,  do  you  want  to  destroy  yourself, 


ON  THE  SEARCH. 


'5 


that  you  arc  talking  in  this  manner?"  but  in  so  low  a  tone 
that  no  one  save  Rick  heard  him. 

"  I  want  to  destroy  you,"  was  the  whispered  reply,  "  and 
the  evidence  that  dooms  me  will  twist  the  hemp  for  your 
neck — do  you  mind  that,  Morty  Carter  ? " 

Carter  did  not  reply;  but,  summoning  one  of  the  soldiers, 
bade  him  prepare  a  meal  for  Rick,  and  afterward  assign  him 

a.  place  to  sleep. 

*«»«•*• 

In  an  apartment  in  another  portion  of  the  barrack,  entire- 
ly removed  from  the  soldiers'  quarters,  Captain  Dennier,  still 
in  his  marching  attire,  and  with  the  dusty  marks  of  his  recent 
expedition  not  yet  removed,  stood  in  respectful  attitude  be- 
fore an  elderly  officer  of  imposing  presence. 

The  latter  was  also  standing,  but  he  seemed  to  have  as- 
sumed the  attitude  rather  in  the  heat  of  his  speech  to  the 
young  man,  and  his  fingers  played  nervously  with  the  ribbon 
of  some  decoration  upon  his  person. 

"  It  is  exceedingly  discreditable,  this  continued  ill  success 
of  yours,"  he  said  in  an  irritated  tone,  "  and  I  warn  you  to 
speedily  redeem  it ;  nothing  could  be  clearer  than  the  clew 
with  which  this  fellow  Carter  furnished  you,  and  he  has  the 
most  important  testimony  to  bring  forward  as  soon  as  you 
capture  your  prey." 

Captain  Dennier's  face  flushed  hotly,  but  he  made  no  reply. 

"  Here  am  I,"  continued  the  senior  officer,  "  hurried  over 
from  England  to  find  after  all  that  her  Majesty's  soldiers  art 
unequal  to  the  task  of  unearthing  a  few  poor  rampant  Irish- 
men, who  have  more  bluster  than  brains.  And  here  is 
another  dispatch." 

He  drew  toward  him  one  out  of  a  loose  packet  of  papers 
that  lay  upon  a  table,  and  tendered  it  to  the  captain.  The 
latter  read  aloud  : 

"  A  convict,  Carroll  O'Donoghue  by  name,  has  escaped 
from  penal  servitude  in  Australia,  and  is  supposed  to  be  con- 


,6  CARROLL  VDONOQHUK 

cealed  in  or  about  Cahirciveen.  Let  a  sufficient  number  of 
men  be  detailed  to  search  and  guard  the  place,  and  let  all 
precautions  be  taken  to  prevent  the  escape  of  the  convict  by 
sea." 

The  captain  replaced  the  paper  without  a  word. 

"  You  must  be  ready,  sir,  to  undertake  that  expedition  to- 
morrow," said  the  senior  officer. 

A  bow  of  assent  was  the  reply. 

"  And  let  it  be  your  effort  to  cover  by  its  success  your  fail- 
ure of  to-day." 

With  a  wave  of  his  hand  he  dismissed  the  young  man,  and 
throwing  himself  into  a  chair,  turned  wearily  to  the  packet  of 
papers  lying  before  him. 


CHAPTER  II. 

A   SINGULAR   MEETING. 

IN  ine  of  the  loveliest  spots  of  Ireland,  where  lolty  moun- 
tains looked  protectingly  down  on  a  green  valley  that  wound 
about  them,  and,  in  the  distance,  the  white  line  of  a  broken 
and  rock-girded  coast  gleamed  in  the  sun,  stood  one  of  the 
better  class  of  country  cottages.  Its  white-washed  exterior, 
and  the  care  and  taste  shown  in  the  garden  surrounding  it, 
bespoke  for  its  interior  unusual  neatness  and  thrift. 

An  English  officer,  sauntering  with  careless  gait,  though  his 
face  would  seem  to  betray  the  existence  of  anxious  and  per- 
plexing thought,  paused  as  he  neared  the  cottage,  and  looked 
admiringly  on  the  tasteful  surroundings.  Thence  his  eyes 
wandered  to  the  picturesque  scene  beyond — the  mountains, 
the  shore.  A  short  distance  away,  on  the  other  side  of  a  nar- 
row stream,  stood  a  large  dark  stone  building  ;  it  looked 
strange  and  isolated,  and  its  apparent  massive  strength,  to- 
gether with  its  shape,  would  give  something  of  the  impression 
of  a  deserted  castle. 

With  his  curiosity  aroused,  the  officer  walked  more  briskly, 
and,  arriving  at  the  cottage,  he  found  the  door  broadly  open. 
Within,  an  attractive-looking,  Irish  girl  was  spinning,  her 
back  to  the  entrance  at  which  stood  the  interested  specta- 
tor, and  she  was  singing  as  she  worked.  It  was  a  simple 
ditty,  but  one  so  plaintive,  and  trilled  out  in  such  an  exqui- 
sitely sweet  voice,  that  the  soldier  feared  to  make  a  motion 
lest  he  should  interrupt  the  strain. 

When  it  ceased  he  knocked,  but  so  timidly  that  the  girl 
did  not  hear  him.  He  ventured  to  repeat  the  sound  ;  she 
turned  shortly,  without,  however,  pausing  in  her  work,  and 
bade  him  enter. 


Tg  CARROLL  ODONOOHUS. 

u  Pardon  my  intrusion,"  he  began,  "  but  I  wished  so  much 
to  know  the  name  of  this  charming  spot,  that  I  have  ventured 
to  enter." 

"  The  name  of  this  charming  spot,"  with  an  amusing  mim 
icry  of  his  own  words,  "  is  DhrommacohoL" 

She  still  continued  her  work,  not  even  glancing  at  him,  anf 
somewhat  embarrassed  by  her  indifference,  he  hesitated  a  mo 
ment  before  he  said  : 

"  I  want  to  go  to  Cahirciveen,  but  I  confess  to  some  curios 
ity  to  learn  a  little  of  this  romantic-looking  place  before  I  an 
directed  thence." 

"  If  you  will  take  my  place  at  the  spinning-wheel,  I  will 
bring  some  one  to  you  who  will  answer  your  questions." 

She  stopped  her  work  and  looked  at  him  now,  but  in  a  pro- 
vokingly  defiant  manner,  her  dark  eyes  brimful  of  suppressed 
mischief,  and  her  mouth  curving  into  a  half  sarcastic  smile. 

The  officer  was  completely  nonplussed  ;  he  glanced  at  his 
hands  for  an  instant,  without  knowing  why  he  did  so  ;  they 
were  white  and  dainty  compared  with  her  red,  but  small  and 
shapely  ones. 

The  Irish  lass  was  growing  every  instant  more  tantalizing. 

"  Don't,"  she  said,  observing  his  hasty  glance  at  his  hands  ; 
"  it  might  put  them  out  of  shape." 

In  sheer  desperation  he  attempted  to  work  the  spinning- 
wheel  as  he  had  seen  her  do,  but  peal  after  peal  of  merry 
laughter  greeted  his  awkward  attempts.  Her  Majesty's  offi- 
cer was  never  in  such  a  trying  position — better  could  he  have 
borne  the  fire  of  a  dozen  muskets  than  the  taunting  mirth  of 
this  provoking  girl,  half-menial  though  he  suspected  her  to  be. 
His  face  flushed,  and  the  perspiration  rolled  from  his  fore- 
head, yet  fear  of  more  severe  ridicule  prevented  him  from  re- 
signing the  humiliating  task. 

"  Go  and  tell  your  mistress,"  he  said,  "  that  I  would  like  to 
see  her." 

"  My  mistress  I  umph  !  "  she  repeated  ;  "  and  what  name 
shall  I  give  to  my  mistress  ?  "  with  provoking  emphasis  on  th« 
Last  word. 


A  SINGULAR  MEETING.  19 

44  Captain  Dennicr,  of  her  Majesty's  — —  Regiment." 

"  Captain  what  ? "  with  an  air  of  amusing  stupidity,  as  if  the 
name  was  too  difficult  for  her  to  pronounce.  Almost  irritated, 
he  was  about  to  repeat  it,  but  she  interrupted  : 

"  Don't  trouble  yourself  to  say  it  again — I  shall  describe  you 
to  my  mistress,  and  that  will  do." 

What  that  description  of  him  would  be,  and  especially  what 
it  would  be  of  him  as  he  appeared  in  his  present  position,  the 
aristocratic  captain  too  well  knew  ;  and  as  his  vivid  imagina- 
tion pictured  the  mirth  which  perhaps  another  provoking  Irish 
girl  would  have  at  his  expense,  he  was  tempted  to  curse  the 
fate  that  had  led  him  to  Dhrommacohol,  and  his  own  folly 
that  had  placed  him  in  such  a  position. 

"  He  mistakes  me  for  the  servant,"  muttered  the  girl,  laugh- 
ing to  herself,  as  she  hastily  repaired  to  an  upper  chamber. 

There,  engaged  in  graceful  needlework,  sat  a  young  woman 
some  years  the  senior  of  her  who  so  hurriedly  entered,  but  so 
fair  in  face  and  form  that  she  seemed  out  of  place  amid  her 
neat  though  homely  surroundings. 

"  Oh,  Nora ! "  burst  out  the  new-comer,  "  I  have  the  fun- 
niest sight  in  the  world  to  show  you — one  of  Queen  Victoria's 
officers  spinning  our  linen." 

"  What !  "  was  the  almost  affrighted  exclamation  ;  and  the 
young  lady  addressed  as  Nora  dropped  her  work  and  stared 
almost  aghast 

"  He  mistook  me  for  the  servant,  and  he  wanted  to  be 
directed  somewhere,  and  to  learn  something  of  this  beautiful 
spot ;  and  he  was  so  elegant-looking,  and  so  courtly,  that  the 
thought  just  popped  into  my  head  to  put  him  at  the  spinning- 
wheel,  for  a  bit  of  revenge,  you  know  ;  so  I  told  him  I'd  bring 
my  mistress  to  him,  and  she  would  answer  all  his  questions. 

He  gave  me  his  name,  Captain  Dennier,  of  her  Majesty's 

Regiment  Oh,  Nora  !  he  makes  the  drollest  sight  at  the 
wheel ! " 

"  Now,  Clare  !  how  could  you  do  such  a  thing ;  it  was  posi- 
tively unkind  !  "  and  the  lovely  speaker  looked  reprovingly  at 
the  laughing  girL 


to  OASSOLL  VDONOQHUB. 

*  How  could  I  do  such  a  thing  ?  **  was  the  reply,  in  a  tone 
that  increased  in  spirit  with  every  word,  "  I  could  heap  con- 
fusion and  shame  upon  every  one  of  them  who  left  us  as  we 
are,  who  took  from  us  the  hope  and  comfort  of  our  lives  ;  but 
the  Engliih,  I  hate  them,  and  I  could  crush  them." 

She  looked  the  personification  of  her  ardent  and  bitter  feel- 
ing :  her  slight,  small  form  drawn  to  its  full  height,  her  cheeks 
flaming,  and  her  dark  eyes  alight  with  all  the  fire  of  passionate 
emotion. 

Nora  rose,  and  putting  her  arm  about  the  angry  girl  drew 
her  to  her. 

"  Hush,  Clare  ;  did  not  you  promise  Father  O'Connor,  only 
the  other  day,  that  you  would  strive  to  quiet  these  bursts,  that 
you  would  be  more  Christian,  more  forgiving  ? " 

"  I  know  it,"  half  sobbed  Clare,  "  but  I  cannot  help  it ;  the 
very  sight  of  that  man  as  he  stood  in  the  doorway  seemed  to 
rouse  my  most  bitter  feelings." 

"  Then  we  shall  go  down  immediately,  and  apologize  to  him 
for  the  indignity  tc  which  he  has  been  subjected,"  said  Nora, 
quietly. 

"  Never  !  "  vehemently  answered  Clare,  withdrawing  from 
the  arm  which  still  clasped  her  ;  "  if  you  will  have  so  little 
spirit,  Clare  O'Donoghue  shall  not  forget  that  she  is  one  of 
the  trampled  and  outraged  Irish." 

A  sigh  was  the  only  response  from  Nora,  and  flinging  about 
her  a  white  shawl  which  had  dropped  from  her  shoulders  on 
rising  from  her  seat,  she  prepared  to  descend  to  Captain  Den- 
nier.  Clare  dried  her  eyes,  shook  down  her  curls,  which  had 
been  fastened  in  a  massive  twist  at  the  back  of  her  head,  un- 
pinned her  dress,  that  had  been  gathered  about  her  for  great- 
er convenience  in  her  work,  and  followed. 

The  captain  had  ceased  his  awkward  attempt  to  spin,  but 
he  remained  standing  by  the  wheel,  with  one  hand  resting  upon 
the  latter.  The  absence  of  his  messenger  seemed  unaccount- 
ably long,  and  in  much  trepidation  he  watched  the  door  by 
which  Clare  had  gone  for  her  mistress. 


A  SINGULAR  MEETIffQ.  „ 

A  rustle  of  a  garment,  and  the  loveliest  woman  he  thought 
he  had  ever  beheld  stood  before  him  ;  a  woman  so  fair  and 
fragile-looking  that  for  aa  instant  one  might  deem  her  some 
supernatural  visitant.  The  white  shawl  draped  gracefully 
about  her  was  hardly  whiter  than  her  face,  but  the  transparent 
hue  was  not  that  of  disease,  but  a  complexion  that  had  never 
been  touched  by  a  foreign  sun.  Her  jet-black  hair  twisted  in 
heavy  bands  about  her  head  and  her  large,  black,  pensive 
eyes  rather  increased  the  ethereal  look  of  her  countenance. 

The  officer,  in  his  surprise  at  this  unexpected  vision,  re- 
mained standing  by  the  spinning-wheel,  and  he  did  not  recover 
his  self-possession  till  the  lovely  new-comer,  advancing  to 
him,  said  in  a  sweet,  low  voice  : 

"  Captain  Dennier,  I  presume,  one  of  her  Majesty's  officers  ; 
permit  me  to  apologize  for  the  prank  which  my  mirthful  com- 
panion has  played  upon  you  in  requesting  you  to  spin."  Clare 
had  arrived  in  time  to  hear  the  apology,  and  standing  on 
tiptoe  behind  Nora,  who  was  considerably  taller,  so  that  her 
face,  charming  in  its  setting  of  short,  clustering  brown  curls, 
looked  over  the  latter's  shoulder,  she  interposed  : 

"  And  permit  me,  Captain  Dennier,  to  introduce  to  3rou  my 
mistress,  Miss  McCarthy,  and  to  say  that  it  is  against  nay  will 
that  any  apology  has  been  made  to  you." 

Nora's  hand  was  over  Clare's  mouth,  and  Nora  herself  was 
blushing  till  her  forehead  and  neck  were  scarlet. 

Captain  Dennier,  with  an  effort,  recovered  his  self-posses- 
sion. Bowing  low,  he  said  with  persuasive  grace  of  manner  : 

"  Pardon,  ladies,  my  apparent  intrusion,  but  the  beauty  of 
this  charming  spot  tempted  me  to  enter,  in  order  to  inquire 
about  the  interesting  objects  I  saw,  as  well  as  to  ask  my  way 
to  Cahirciveen.  I  should  particularly  like  to  know  about  that 
building  which  stands  out  so  picturesquely  before  us."  He 
pointed  through  the  open  window  to  the  dark,  solitary  edifice 
which  had  attracted  his  attention  before  entering  the  cottage. 

"  That,"  answered  Nora,  sadly,  "  was  once  our  home,  but 
the  estate  becoming  encumbered  by  debt  has  passed  from  our 
possession  ;  it  is  flow  in  the  market  to  be  sold." 


„  CARROLL  VDONOQHUB. 

*  Yes,"  spoke  up  Clare,  at  the  same  time  withdrawing  (rare 
Nora  so  that  the  latter's  hand  might  not  restrain  again  her 
impulsive  speech,  "  and  tenantless,  it  stands  a  memento  of  that 
oppression  which  would  take  from  the  Irish  even  the  shelter 
of  the  poorest  home.    We,  to  whom  each  spot  of  the  old  house 
is  so  dear,  cannot  now  pass  its  threshold." 

A  shade  of  sadness  crossed  the  officer's  face,  as  if  some  chord 
had  been  struck  in  his  own  heart  which  responded  to  the 
wounded  and  bitter  feelings  he  had  aroused  in  Clare.  He 
advanced  to  her,  saying  gently  : 

*  Let  not  the  wrongs  my  country  may  have  done  your  land 
be  a  reason  for  enmity  between  us  as  individuals.     We  at  least 
may  not  hate  each  other,  and  I  assure  you  on  my  word  of 
honor  as  an  officer  that  I  admire  and  revere  the  virtues  of 
many  of  your  country  people." 

Clare  retorted  quickly  :  "  And  yet  you  are  down  here  on 
her  Majesty's  commission,  to  capture  and  to  hound  to  death 
many  of  those  whose  virtues  you  say  you  admire  and  revere  ; 
how  consistent  are  your  remarks  !  " 

"  Pardon  me,"  he  broke  in,  now  warmly  desirous  of  estab- 
lishing himself  in  her  good  opinion,  "  and  listen  to  me.  I  can- 
not disapprove  the  putting  down  of  rebellion  by  my  country, 
however  much  I  may  deplore  the  suffering  it  entails  on  the 
poor  victims  of  foolhardy  patriotism." 

"  Enough,  sir  !  "  answered  Clare,  her  eyes  flashing,  and  her 
lip  curling  with  scorn  ;  "  you  have  suffered  contamination 
by  coming  here  ;  my  brother  is  one  of  the  victims  of  foolhardy 
patriotism,  and  for  it  he  is  now  a  penal  convict  in  Australia." 

She  turned  away,  her  anger  giving  place  to  a  passionate 
burst  of  tears,  and  they  could  hear  her  sobbing  as  she  ascended 
to  her  own  apartment. 

"  Good  heavens !  what  have  I  done  ? "  and  the  captain's 
unfeigned  distress  was  pitiable.  "  Plead  for  me,"  he  said  to 
Nora ;  "  tell  her  I  did  not  mean  to  wound  her  feelings  ;  tell 
her  that  I  crave  a  thousand  pardons." 

*  Pray  do  not  trouble  yourself  about  it,"  answered  Nora, 


A  SINGULAR 

"^ 

gently.  "  Poor  Qare  has  had  so  much  to  suffer  in  the  loss  of 
her  home  and  the  arrest  and  sentence  of  her  brother  that  her 
feelings  easily  overpower  her.  Forgive  her,  and  think  kindly 
of  her." 

"  Forgive  her  !  it  is  /  who  should  crave  forgiveness ;  it  if 
certainly  enough  to  hunt  your  countrymen  as  we  are  doing, 
without  entering  your  homes  to  force  you  to  believe  in  the 
righteousness  of  our  work." 

A  form  darkened  the  doorway — a  tall,  spare  form  in  cleri- 
cal dress,  and  with  the  attenuated  face  which  speaks  of  long 
self-denial  and  mortification  ;  but  there  was  a  kindness  and 
sweetness  in  the  pale,  thin  countenance,  and  a  look  of  Heaven 
in  the  soft,  deep  brown  eyes,  that  won  high  and  tow  alike  to 
gentle,  saintly  Father  O'Connor. 

Nora  flew  to  him. 

"  Oh,  father  !  Heaven  must  have  sent  you  in  ;  our  poor 
Clare  is  in  one  of  her  unhappy  moods,  innocently  caused  by 
this  gentleman  ;"  and  then  with  simple  grace  she  introduced 
Captain  Dennier,  and  in  a  few  words  gave  the  substance  of 
the  difficulty. 

The  gentlemen  clasped  hands  on  the  introduction  with 
more  mutual  cordiality  than  perhaps  would  have  pleased  eas- 
ily-excited Clare,  had  she  witnessed  it.  On  the  part  of  the 
priest  the  kindliness  was  prompted  by  the  truest  charity,  com- 
bined with  an  involuntary  admiration  for  the  officer's  frank, 
manly  bearing  ;  on  the  part  of  Captain  Dennier  the  cordial 
grasp  was  prompted  by  a  sudden  and  irresistible  attraction 
for  the  priest,  as  if  something  strangely  apart  from  himself 
had  roused  within  and  impelled  him  to  seize  the  extended 
hand  with  a  vise-like  pressure,  and  look  into  the  pale  thin 
face  with  all  the  eager  and  mysterious  longing  of  a  restless 
and  unhappy  soul  The  strange  gaze  was  not  unobserved  by 
Nora  ;  she  noted  it  even  while  she  was  explaining  the  recent 
singular  events,  and  she  noted  also  in  that  exchange  of  looks, 
how  like  in  color  and  shape  were  the  eyes  of  both  young  men; 
the  expression  differed,  the  priest's  eyes  wearing  a  look  of 


«4  CARROLL  VDONOQHU*. 

Heaven  in  their  intense  softness  and  kindliness,  while  those 
of  Captain  Dennier  flashed  out  bold,  keen  glances. 

"  Have  Clare  hasten  to  see  me,  then,  for  I  am  on  my  way 
to  Rossbeigh,  and  cannot  delay.  I  have  just  seen  Father 
Meagher,  and  he  told  me  there  had  been  trouble  there  be- 
tween some  of  the  people  and  the  soldiers ;  that  one  or  two 
poor  fellows  had  been  wounded,  not  dangerously,  however, 
and  as  he  could  not  see  them  for  some  hours  yet,  he  asked 
me  to  take  his  place." 

At  that  moment  Clare  appeared,  her  face  still  hotly  suf- 
fused, and  her  eyes  showing  traces  of  her  recent  violent  weep- 
ing. 

"  I  heard  your  voice,"  she  said,  advancing  to  the  priest, 
"  and  fearing  you  would  be  in  your  usual  hurry,  I  hastened  to 
see  you." 

"And  one  result  of  your  seeing  him,"  spoke  Captain  Den- 
nier, gently,  and  with  some  embarrassment,  "  will  be,  I  trust, 
to  forgive  one  who  has  been  so  unhappy  as  to  offend  you." 

His  whole  bearing,  at  once  so  noble  and  so  respectful,  for 
the  moment  won  Clare's  impulsive  heart  ;  the  next  instant, 
however,  she  scorned  herself  for  even  this  involuntary  yield- 
ing to  the  detested  foe  of  her  country.  Father  O'Connor's 
eyes  were  upon  her,  with  their  tender,  reproachful  glance, 
which  she  had  never  yet  been  able  to  withstand,  and  she  re- 
pressed the  sharp  words  almost  upon  her  lips,  and  answered 
instead : 

"  I  know  not  why  you  crave  my  poor  forgiveness,  but  since 
it  is  so,  though  I  shall  still  regard  you  as  the  enemy  of  my 
country,  I  grant  what  you  ask — I — "  in  a  faltering  voice,  and 
with  a  deep-drawn  sigh,  "  I — forgive  you." 

"  And  I  thank  you,"  responded  the  captain,  with  another 
of  his  low  and  graceful  bows. 

"  I  cannot  remain  longer,"  said  the  priest,  "  and  if  you,  sir, 
desire  to  go  to  Cahirciveen,  I  can  guide  you  part  of  the  way ; 
my  journey  will  lie  somewhat  in  that  direction." 

The  officer,  though  reluctant  to  leave  the  ladies,  in  whom 


A  SINGULAR  MEETING.  35 

he  had  become  strangely  interested,  still  gladly  accepted  the 
clergyman's  offer.  With  a  kind  adieu  from  Nora,  and  an  amus- 
ingly formal  one  from  Clare,  which  he  courteously  returned, 
he  took  his  departure  with  the  priest 


CHAPTER  IH. 

CARTER'S  MIOFOSAU 

CLARK  O'DoxooHUE  acted  strangely  after  the  departure  of 
the  visitors  :  she  avoided  Nora,  and  continued  to  wear  such 
an  unusually  thoughtful  and  preoccupied  air,  that  had  not 
Nora  herself  been  deeply  absorbed  in  curious  thought  about 
those  same  visitors,  she  would  have  wondered  at  Clare's  man- 
ner. 

Poor  Clare  !  she  was  strangely  unhappy  and  remorseful- 
unhappy  that  the  very  memory  ot  the  admiring  and  deferen- 
tial notice  of  the  handsome  officer  should  still  linger  in  her 
mind,  and  remorseful  that  she  had  suffered  him  to  leave  with- 
out according  him  a  more  generous  pardon.  Her  cheeks 
burned  with  scorn  against  herself,  and  she  went  about  the 
little  household  duties,  which  she  voluntarily  performed,  with 
a  fierce  energy  born  of  her  own  disturbed  mind. 

Another  knock  sounded  at  the  cottage  door ;  this  time  it 
was  no  timid  rap,  but  a  bold,  peremptory  signal  that  pro- 
claimed the  right  to  demand  an  entrance.  Clare  opened  to 
the  new-comer,  but  started  back  with  an  expression  of  alarm 
in  her  countenance. 

"  Good  day,  my  dear,"  said  a  coarse,  thick,  blustering  voice. 
"  Maybe  I'm  not  as  welcome  here  as  I  ought  to  be,  seeing  the 
start  you  gave  when  you  saw  me  ;  but  I'll  forgive  you  in  con- 
sideration that  things'll  be  better  in  the  future." 

The  speaker  ushered  himself  into  the  apartment — a  power- 
fully-built, coarse  man,  with  a  large,  round,  red  face,  and  little, 
gray,  constantly-winking  eyes.  He  was  dressed  in  flashy  garb 
and  wore  a  massive,  gold  chain  pending  from  his  velvet  sur- 
tout. 

(a6) 


CARTERS  PROPOSAL.  ,7 

Clare  had  regained  her  self-possession,  and  with  it  her 
wonted  spirited  manner.  "  To  what  are  we  indebted,  Mr 
Carter,  for  this  early  visit  ?  I  thought  your  business  in  Tralee 
was  to  detain  you  for  a  month  or  more." 

"  So  it  was,  my  jewel,  so  it  was  ;  but  business  of  more  im- 
portance came  up  last  night,  and  brought  me  down  here  to- 
day. I  must  see  Miss  McCarthy  privately  for  a  few  moments; 
so  do  you  just  send  her  to  me,  and  keep  out  of  the  way  your- 
self for  a  little  while." 

Clare  drew  herself  erect 

"  I  shall  do  no  such  thing,  Mr.  Carter — leave  you  alone  with 
her  to  insult  her  by  another  proposal  of  marriage — never  !  It 
is  my  duty,  in  my  brother's  absence,  to  protect  Miss  McCarthy, 
so  I  shall  be  present  at  any  interview  you  may  have  with  her. 
We  have  no  secrets  from  each  other." 

"Easy,  my  darling,  easy,  and  listen  to  me.  I'm  not  the 
villain  you'd  make  me.  I'll  not  hurt  a  hair  of  Miss  McCarthy's 
head,  but  I  must  speak  a  few  words  to  her  privately.  Just  tell 
her,  and  see  if  she  doesn't  consent  herself  to  the  interview." 

Clare  reluctantly  ascended  to  Nora,  and  Mr.  Carter  threw 
himself  into  a  chair  and  began  to  pull  sundry  papers  from  his 
pocket. 

"  It's  tough  business,"  he  muttered,  "  but  I'll  have  to  do  it ; 

and,  faith,  if  that  doesn't  bring  her  to  her  senses,  I'll "  His 

soliloquy  was  abruptly  ended  by  the  sudden  and  noiseless  en- 
trance of  Miss  McCarthy.  She  stood  before  him  in  such  ex- 
quisite beauty  and  queenliness  of  air  that  he  became  discon- 
certed, and  utterly  forgot  the  speech  he  had  prepared  for  her. 
He  rose  and  made  repeated  ungainly  bows,  while  his  florid 
face  deepened  in  hue,  and  his  stammering  efforts  to  say  some- 
thing  were  so  violent  that  the  perspiration  rolled  from  his 
forehead. 

"  1  understand  that  you  wished  to  see  me  alone,"  said  Nora 
coldly  ;  "  pray  state  your  business  briefly." 

Exasperated  by  her  hauteur,  Mr.  Carter  recovered  some- 
what from  hi*  confusion.  Wiping  his  face  carefully,  and 


38  CARROLL  &DONOQHUR. 

drawing  repeated  long  breaths,  while  his  little  ferret-like  eyd 
winked  furiously,  he  responded  : 

"  Yes,  my  dear  Miss  McCarthy,  I  do  wish  to  see  you  on 
most  important  business,  and  I'll  be  as  brief  as  I  can.  The 
last  time  I  mentioned  something  to  you  you  indignantly 
scouted  it,  you  scorned  myself  and  my  offer.  This  time——*' 

Nora  interrupted  him : 

"  Pray,  Mr.  Carter,  spare  yourself ;  I  cannot  and  shall  not 
listen  to  such  language  as  fell  from  your  lips  the  other  day ; 
to  do  so  would  be  criminal  on  my  part,  and  it  is  criminal  in 
you  to  compel  me  to  listen  to  such  utterances,  knowing  as  you 
do  that  I  am  the  affianced  of  Carroll  O'Donoghue." 

Carter  wiped  his  face  again — a  very  necessary  proceeding, 
for  the  perspiration  was  streaming  from  it. 

"  Hear  me,"  he  said  ;  "  if  you  refuse  me  this  time,  not  even 
a  roof  shall  cover  your  head.  I  have  here  the  papers  which 
shall  drive  you  and  that  hoyden,  Clare  O'Donoghue,  out  on 
the  charity  of  the  world  ;  if  you  accept,  you  shall  be  a  lady, 
with  all  that  your  beauty  and  your  own  sweet  self  are  entitled 
to ;  you  shall  do  what  you  will,  only  marry  me,  Nora 
McCarthy." 

He  was  down  on  his  knees  before  her,  a  task  which  the 
tightness  of  his  clothes  and  his  own  large  form  rendered  awk- 
ward and  somewhat  difficult. 

The  girl  shrunk  from  him,  her  lip  curling  with  intense 
scorn,  her  eyes  flashing  out  their  horrified  loathing. 

"  Get  up,  Mr.  Carter  ;  such  a  position  ill  becomes  you,  and 
know,  once  for  all,  I  fear  your  threats  as  little  as  I  regard  your 
promises.  Send  us  out,  if  you  will,  on  the  cold  charity  of  the 
world  ;  its  charity  will  be  warm  and  tender  compared  to  the 
fate  of  being  your  wife.  Do  your  worst.  I  have  no  feeling 
for  you  other  than  pity  for  your  poor,  shrunken,  sinful  soul." 

She  turned  her  back  upon  him  and  walked  in  her  queenly 
way  toward  the  door.  Discomfited  and  enraged,  but  neither 
humbled  nor  daunted,  Mr.  Carter  rose  and  strode  after  her. 

*'  Mind,"  he  said  hoarsely,  "  you  told  me  to  do  my  worst, 


CARTERS  PROPOSAL.  a, 

and  111  do  it  I  came  here  to-day  prepared  to  shield  yon  and 
those  you  have  your  heart  in,  but  now  both  you  and  they  shall 
feel  the  weight  of  my  anger.  Maybe  one  day  you  will  kneel 
to  me,  Nora  McCarthy." 

She  had  gone  from  the  room,  without  even  a  glance  at  him. 

He  clutched  the  papers,  still  in  his  hand,  like  a  madman, 
and  darted  from  the  cottage.  A  tall,  dignified  form  in  the 
plain  black  garb  of  a  Catholic  priest  was  approaching. 

"  Why,  Carter,  what  in  the  world  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  H 
spoke  up  the  hearty  voice  of  the  pleasant-faced  clergyman,  as 
the  two  met  :  "  you  seem  so  flurried,  and  I  thought  this  part 
of  the  country  wasn't  to  see  you  for  a  while  yet ;  what  has 
brought  you  down  here  now  ?  " 

Carter  doffed  his  hat,  and  strove  to  conceal  the  evidence  of 
his  late  passion. 

"  I  came  here,  your  reverence,  in  the  interest  of  the  O'Don- 
oghues." 

"  Ah  !"  said  the  priest,  with  a  peculiar  intonation  of  voice  ; 
"  let  us  hear  what  your  great  concern  in  their  welfare  would 
do  for  them  this  time.  I  fear  your  interest  in  them  is  taking 
a  very  peculiar  turn." 

"  Does  your  reverence  doubt  me?"  asked  Carter,  striving  to 
assume  an  air  of  injured  innocence. 

"  I  am  not  quite  sure  that  I  ever  fully  trusted  you,"  was  the 
reply,  "  though  charity  has  made  me  blind  in  some  instances ; 
but  there  are  strange  stories  about  you  lately.  How  did  you 
become  on  such  intimate  footing  in  Tralee  garrison,  that  you 
are  well  known  there,  I  understand,  and  well  received  by  even 
the  officers  ;  and  what  is  this  which  Clare  O'Donoghue  tells 
me  of  your  proposal  of  marriage  the  other  day  to  Miss 
McCarthy  ?  Surely,  Carter,  your  assurance  and  pretensions  do 
not  rise  to  such  a  summit  as  that  ! " 

Carter  winced  beneath  the  sarcasm  of  the  rebuke,  and  ht 
had  much  to  do  to  restrain  an  insulting  retort. 

"  I  got  a  footing  in  the  garrison  that  I  might  serve  the  boys 
in  the  places  about — that  I  could  warn  them  when  there  was 


J0  CARROLL  VDONOGHITR 

danger,  and  give  them  information  that  would  help  them  in 
their  plans.  And  as  fo*-  the  other  matter,"  assuming  a  suppli- 
cating look  and  tone,  "  can  your  reverence  blame  me  if  my 
heart  went  where  many  another  heart  in  the  country  would  go 
if  it  only  dared — to  lovely  Nora  McCarthy  ?  I  will  make  her  a 
lady,  father  ;  she  shall  have  comfort  and  wealth  for  the  rest 
of  her  days  ;  perhaps  your  reverence  would  speak  for  me." 

"  Never,  sir  ! "  burst  from  the  priest  in  righteous  indigna- 
tion ;  "  sooner  would  I  read  the  burial  service  over  Nora  Mc- 
Carthy's coffin  than  ever  consent  that  she  should  become 
your  wife." 

Carter  could  no  longer  control  himself.  "  Then  that  roof 
which  covers  her  now  shall  shelter  her  no  more.  She  shall 
go  out  the  pauper  that  she  is,  she  and  Clare  O'Donoghue — I 
have  here  the  tool  of  eviction."  He  shook  one  of  the  papers 
in  his  grasp. 

"My  home  shall  be  open  to  them,"  replied  the  priest, 
"and  may  Heaven  forgive  me,  Morty  Carter,  for  my  past 
trust  in  you.  I  but  followed  the  reliance  which  that  good 
man,  Cairn  O'Donoghue,  now  gone  to  his  rest,  placed  in  you  ; 
but  when  I  pledged  myself  to  be  ever  the  friend  and  adviser 
of  his  motherless  children,  I  did  it,  deeming  that  you,  as 
their  legal  guardian,  would  be  as  true  to  your  responsibilities. 
If  through  my  too  simple  trust  in  you  I  have  unknowingly 
permitted  you  to  do  them  any  wrong,  may  God  forgive  me, 
and  may  He  forgive  you,  Morty  Carter  !  " 

The  priest  turned  away  in  the  direction  of  the  cottage 
which  Carter  had  just  left,  and  the  latter,  looking  after  him 
in  speechless  rage,  muttered  : 

"That's  the  way,  is  it?  I'm  found  out,  am  I  ?  then,  be- 
gorra,  it's  my  turn  now.  I'll  have  my  revenge ;  there's  noth- 
ing to  stop  me.  The  affianced  of  Carroll  O'Donoghue,  is  she  ? 
maybe  when  Carroll  O'Donoghue  hears  something  he  won't 
be  so  ready  to  claim  her  as  his  affianced,  even  if  he  should 
get  the  chance  to  do  so." 


CHAPTER  IT. 

CAPTAIN  DEJSTNIEH, 

"THIS  must  be  the  way  he  meant,"  soliloquized  Captam 
Dennier,  as  he  paused  in  some  perplexity  at  the  head  of  a  path 
leading  directly  to  the  shore  ;  "  he  said  I  could  walk  along 
the  strand  for  a  mile  or  more  before  making  a  turn  ; "  and  at 
length  having  settled  the  matter,  he  went  briskly  on.  Strange 
thoughts  warred  in  his  mind.  The  unaccountable  impression 
produced  by  the  first  sight  of  Father  O'Connor,  and  which 
had  deepened  during  their  conversation  while  they  \valked  to- 
gether, added  to  the  singular  interest  awakened  by  the  two 
lovely  Irish  girls  he  had  so  recently  left,  seriously  disturbed 
him.  He  looked  abroad  on  the  fair  land,  mellow  with  sun- 
shine, and  felt  again  all  those  emotions  which  had  so  stirred 
his  soul  an  evening  or  two  before.  He  summoned  his  native 
pride  to  his  aid,  his  loyalty  to  that  country  of  whose  people 
and  whose  prowess  he  was  wont  to  vaunt,  and  he  strove  to 
persuade  himself  that  his  fealty  to  the  British  crown  was  un- 
diminished.  The  sea-breeze  fanned  his  face,  and  that  it 
might  cool  his  fevered  brow,  he  lifted  his  cap  and  walked 
with  it  in  hand  along  the  shore. 

There  was  not  a  person  in  sight,  nor  a  habitation ;  bold 
rocks  lined  the  way  ;  and  impelled  by  the  wild  feeling  within 
his  own  breast  for  a  wilder  and  more  completely  isolated 
scene,  he  clambered  down  the  rugged  declivity,  and  walked 
where  the  sea  almost  touched  his  feet.  Now  picking  his  way 
over  clumps  of  damp  sea-weed,  now  springing  from  bowlder 
to  bowlder,  and  again  pausing  to  peer  into  some  cavity  in  the 
rocks,  the  officer  came  suddenly  upon  a  man  sitting  idly  on 
one  of  the  stones.  A  long  gray  overcoat  covered  his  person, 
(30 


3,  CARROLL  VDONOQHUB. 

while  a  wide-brimmed,  low-crowned  hat  almost  entirely  con« 
cealed  his  features.  The  officer  halted  in  some  surprise. 

"  Halloo,  stranger  ! "  saluted  the  man,  looking  up  from 
under  his  slouched  hat ;  "  how  do  you  come  in  this  place  ?  " 

*  I'm  on  my  way  to  Cahirciveen,"  was  the  reply,  "  and  I 
turned  a  little  out  of  the  road  to  enjoy  this  wild  scenery  of 
yours." 

"  Ah  !  it  is  grand,  is  it  not  ? "  and  the  speaker  jumped 
nimbly  up. 

"  Perhaps  you  have  come  some  distance,  and  are  fatigued," 
he  continued.  "  We  of  the  coast  here  are  always  provided," 
drawing,  as  he  spoke,  from  the  pocket  of  his  overcoat  a  small 
canteen,  and  proffering  it  to  the  officer. 

"  I  have  come  from  Dhrommacohol." 

**  Dhrommacohol  !  "  the  man  in  the  gray  over-dress  repeat- 
ed eagerly. 

"  Yes ;  and  it  was  my  good  fortune  to  meet  there  two  of 
your  lovely  countrywomen." 

"  Their  names  I  " 

"  Miss  O'Donoghue,  and  Miss  McCarthy." 

For  an  instant  the  anxious  questioner  touched  his  hat  as  if 
in  his  eagerness  he  would  have  thrust  it  entirely  back  from 
his  head,  but  he  suddenly  recovered  his  caution,  and  dropped 
his  hand  to  his  side  again. 

"  Which  do  you  prefer  ;  which  to  you  was  the  lovelier  of 
the  two  ? "  he  asked  in  a  voice  that  trembled  slightly. 

"  Miss  McCarthy  is  the  lovelier,  but  I  prefer  Miss  O'Don- 
oghue." 

"  Ah ! "  There  was  a  deep  breath  as  of  relief  from  the 
•  questioner,  and  his  voice  was  steadier  as  he  answered  : 

"  I  do  not  admire  your  taste  ;  the  whole  county  rings  with 
Miss  McCarthy's  beauty  and  goodness." 

"  I  grant  you  that,"  said  the  Englishman,  "  but  to  me,  there 
was  something  indescribably  charming  in  the  spirit  of  Miss 
O'Donoghue." 

"  Oh,  aye  !  she  has  enough  of  spirit ;  the  whole  parish  it 
ware  of  that" 


CAPTAIN  DENNIER.  w 

"  You  seem  to  know  them  intimately,"  said  the  officer. 

"  Every  one  about  here  knows  them,"  was  the  somewhat 
evasive  reply.  "And  now  let  us  drink  their  healths." 

In  turn  they  quaffed  from  the  canteen  ;  then  the  officer 
drew  out  his  watch  and  asked  if  he  could  reach  Cahirciveen 
before  nightfall. 

"  Easily,"  was  the  reply  ;  "  keep  to  the  walk  above  here  for 
a  half  mile  ;  any  one  will  direct  you  then.  I  would  be  myself 
your  guide,  but  I  have  not  the  time  at  my  disposal." 

"  Oh,  that  will  do,  my  dear  fellow  ;  the  way  is  so  plain  now 
that  I  cannot  mistake  it." 

With  a  friendly  adieu  they  parted,  and  in  another  moment 
Captain  Dennier  had  lightly  climbed  the  rocks  again,  and  was 
walking  briskly  on  the  path  above. 

The  strange  man  looked  about  him  on  every  side,  far  out 
to  sea,  where  shadows  of  an  approaching  storm  seemed  to  lie 
on  the  deep  waters,  and  immediately  around  him,  where  only 
the  rocks  and  the  murmuring  waves  met  his  view.  In  this 
watching  and  listening  attitude  he  waited  until  he  deemed 
sufficient  time  had  elapsed  for  the  officer  to  have  passed  far 
from  the  scene  ;  then  he  bent  almost  to  the  ground,  and  put- 
ting his  hands  to  his  mouth,  gave  a  peculiar  whistle.  It  rever- 
berated among  the  rocks  with  a  startling  shrillness,  and 
brought  out  of  one  of  the  stony  recesses  the  lithe  figure  of  a 
man — lithe  and  not  ungraceful,  despite  its  ill-fashioned,  almost 
grotesque  garb.  A  shaggy  overcoat,  much  too  long  and  wide, 
flapped  about  his  person,  and  a  battered  hat  comically  fasten- 
ed on  the  side  with  a  loose  knot  of  what  had  once  been  a  gay- 
colored  ribbon,  but  which  was  now  of  the  dingy  hue  of  the 
hat  itself,  covered  his  head. 

With  his  face  toward  the  ground,  he  listened  for  a  moment 
as  if  expecting  a  repetition  of  the  whistle  ;  then  catching  up 
the  flowing  skirts  of  his  ample  coat,  and  giving  his  hat  a  firm- 
er thrust  on  his  head,  he  bounded  along  the  rocks  with  the 
speed  and  agility  of  a  mountain  goat.  The  form  in  the  gray 
ever-dress  stood  on  the  top  of  an  elevated  bowlder,  on  an  ap- 


34  CARROLL 

parently  keen  and  anxious  watch,  but  at  the  first  sight  of  the 
being  springing  amid  the  rocks,  it  descended. 

"  I  heerd  the  whistle,"  spoke  up  the  new-comer,  "  just  as 
me  heart  was  growin'  onaisy  that  I  didn't  hear  it  afore." 

u  I  couldn't  give  it  sooner,  Tighe,  for  a  little  after  I  arrived 
here  a  soldier  came  this  way  on  his  road  to  Cahirciveen.  I 
deemed  it  best  to  be  friendly,  and  he  stopped  awhile.  Then 
I  wanted  to  give  him  time  to  be  well  gone." 

"Aye,"  answered  Tighe,  "  he's  one  of  the  blackguards,  I 
suppose,  that's  up  there  now  at  Cahirciveen — didn't  I  hear  all 
about  it  an  hour  ago  ?  Sure  the  queen  has  full  news  o'  yer 
escape,  an'  these  fellows  have  been  sint  to  Cahirciveen  to  ar- 
rest you,  bad  scran  to  thim  !  Mebbe  this  one  that  you've 
been  talking  to  has  his  suspicions  about  you,  an'  that  it's  back 
he'll  be  comin'  with  a  lot  more  o'  the  scurvy  pates." 

"  I  don't  know,  Tighe,  but  he  seemed  a  right  good  fel- 
low." 

"  Ah,  masther  dear,  you  can't  thrust  any  o'  'em — tail  an' 
bide,  they're  all  the  same,  an'  the  sooner  you're  out  o'  this 
place  the  betther." 

"  Any  time,  Tighe,  only  I  must  see  Nora  before  I  fly  for 
good  ;  I  must  see  her  to-night,  then  I  shall  be  as  prudent  as 
even  you  can  wish  me  to  be." 

"  Tatther  an'  ages  !  was  there  iver  the  bate  o'  this  ? "  and 
Tighe  in  his  vexation  almost  danced  upon  the  rock.  "  Would 
you  be  puttin*  yer  neck  in  the  halther  afore  it's  made  for 
you  ?  You  can't  see  her  to-night ;  sure  they'll  be  havin' 
scouts  from  the  rigiment  in  ivery  direction,  an*  it'ud  be  as  much 
as  yer  life  is  worth  to  go  near  DhrommacohoL  Och,  mas- 
ther dear,  put  yoursel'  once  more  under  me  biddin' ;  the  boys 
is  waitin*  beyant  wid  a  boat,  an'  we'll  smuggle  you  to  Ameri- 
kay.  Sure  I'll  tell  Miss  McCarthy  on  me  bended  knees  o* 
the  love  you  have  for  her,  an'  how  you  thought  o'  her  day  an1 
night" 

*  It  won't  do,  Tighe,  my  faithful  fellow,  it  won't  do.  Nora 
McCarthy  is  so  wound  about  my  heart  that  I  must  have  one 


CAPTAIN  DENNIER.  ,        35 

sight  of  her,  however  brief,  and  one  sound  of  her  voice  to 

give  me  nerve  again." 

Tighe  gave  a  vigorous  thrust  to  his  battered  caubtcn,  and 
dashed  his  hand  over  his  eyes. 

"  Manage  this  for  me,"  continued  the  speaker,  "  as  you  have 
managed  many  another  affair  for  me.  Under  cover  of  the 
darkness  I  can  steal  to  Dhrommacohol,  see  Nora  and  my  sister 
for  a  few  moments,  and  then,  Tighe,  my  faithful,  tender 
Tighe,  I  will  do  whatever  you  wish." 

There  was  no  resisting  that  appeal,  accompanied  as  it  was 
by  the  winning  look  of  eyes  that  had  all  a  woman's  softness 
in  their  depths,  and  Tighe  hung  his  head  and  answered  with 
a  crestfallen  air : 

"  Sure  it's  well  you  know  I  can't  refuse  when  you  ax  in 
that  way  ;  but  it's  to  your  death  you'll  be  goin'.  Ah  then, 
when  I  followed  you  to  that  far  counthry,  an'  you  made  your 
escape  from  the  prison  there,  did  I  think  you'd  be  as  onthract- 
able  as  this  ?  But  niver  moind, — I'll  sthrive  me  best  to  man- 
age it,  an'  if  you're  ketched,  an'  you  have  to  die,  why  thea, 
Tighe  a  Vohr  '11  die  alongside  o'  you." 


CHAPTER  V. 

MRS.   CAKMODT. 

A  MILK  distant  from  the  cottage  in  which  dwelt  Nora  Me* 
Carthy  and  Clare  O'Donoghue,  there  stood  one  of  the  better 
class  of  Irish  country  cottages  ;  while  there  was  little  evidence 
of  care  in  the  patch  of  ground  surrounding  it,  there  seemed  to 
be  unusual  thrift  and  neatness  within.  A  bright  turf  fire 
emitted  its  cheerful  blaze,  and  the  earthen  floor  was  tidily 
swept.  An  attempt  at  a  dresser  had  been  made  in  one  cor- 
ner of  the  room,  and  upon  a  portion  of  it  shone  numerous 
brightly-scoured  tins,  while  the  remainder  was  well  stocked 
with  ware,  many  of  the  pieces,  however,  being  broken,  but  so 
placed  that  only  the  good  side  of  each  was  visible.  In  the 
opposite  corner  rested  a  settle  now  arranged  as  a  bed,  with 
coarse,  but  clean  coverlet  and  pillow  ;  an  open  door  revealed 
a  smaller  apartment,  evidently  a  sleeping  room.  A  tidy,  florid 
Irish  woman,  with  her  black  dress  pinned  about  her,  and  her 
gray  hair  covered  by  a  spotlessly  clean  cap  having  huge  frilled 
borders,  stood  beside  a  table,  peeling  potatoes.  She  seemed 
to  be  absorbed  in  deep  and  not  very  pleasant  thought,  for 
sometimes  she  shook  her  head  ominously,  and  after  intervals 
she  muttered  such  stray  sentences  as  the  following  : 

"  I  niver  had  an  aisy  moment  with  him,  an'  I'm  afeard  I 
never  will.  The  Lord  betune  him  and  harrum,  but  where 
can  he  be  at  all,  at  all  ?  Six  months  this  very  day  since  I 
laid  eyes  on  him.  Maybe  it's  in  want  of  a  male's  mate  he  is 
this  night ;  oh,  if  I  thought  so " 

She  suspended  her  work  to  brush  the  tears  from  hei  eyes. 
The  door  was  suddenly  flung  open,  and  some  one  bounding 


MRS.   GARMOD7.  jy 

wildly  across  the  floor  caught  the  astounded  old  woman  with 
a  clasp  that  threatened  to  stifle  her. 

"  Mother,  mother  !  did  you  think  I  was  dead  ?  sure  I'm 
not — I'm  here,  your  own  Tighe,  back  again." 

There  was  another  embrace  that  threatened  ruin  to  the 
starched  frills  of  the  spotless  cap,  and  utter  annihilation  of  their 
wearer.  She  struggled  to  escape,  and  when  at  length  she  suc- 
ceeded in  becoming  disengaged  from  the  huge  folds  of  the  flap- 
ping coat,  and  was  assured  that  her  fears  had  all  been  ground- 
less, and  that  her  scape-grace  son  was  there  in  the  flesh,  and  well 
and  hearty,  her  affection  for  the  time  being  yielded  to  indig- 
nation. "  You  vagabond  !  what  do  you  mane  by  such  trate- 
ment  to  yer  poor  old  mother?  It  wasn't  enough  to  be 
breakin'  my  heart  wid  your  hunts,  an'  your  fairs,  an'  your 
fights  ;  to  have  Father  Meagher  tellin'  me  that  you  wor  the 
greatest  scape-grace  hi  the  counthry,  but  you  must  break  my 
heart  intoirely  by  goin'  off  the  way  you  did,  without  as  much 
as  lavin'  a  line  to  say  where  you  wor." 

"  Is  it  a  line  o'  writin'  you  mane  ?  "  asked  Tighe  humbly. 

"  You  omadhaun  !  what  else  is  it  I'd  mane  ?  " 

"  Sure  how  could  I  lave  that,  when  my  edication  just  stopped 
short  o'  the  power  o'  bein'  able  to  write  at  all  ?  Now,  mother, 
listen  to  me  an'  I'll  tell  you  about  it — it  bates  Bannaher. 
You  won't  listen,  an'  you  won't  recave  me  ? "  as  she  turned 
her  back  and  seemed  about  to  go  into  the  inner  room  ;  "  then 
I'll  say  good-by  to  you  foriver  ;  mebbe  it's  killed  I'll  be  to- 
night where  I'm  goin',  an'  then  you  an'  the  counthry  '11  be 
rid  of  the  scape-grace." 

He  pretended  to  hurry  to  the  door,  well  knowing  that  she 
would  follow  him.  She  did  so,  flinging  her  arms  about  him. 

"  Come  back,  Tighe,  my  son  !  I  will  listen.  Sure  my 
heart  was  brakin*  while  you  was  gone,  an'  ivery  day  I  fixed 
yer  room  the  same  as  if  you  slept  in  it  the  night  afore. 
Look  at  it !  " 

She  drew  him  to  the  inner  apartment ;  though  poor  almost 
to  bareness,  it  was  clean  and  neat,  and  there  had  been  even 


jg  CARROLL  VDONOQHUM. 

some  attempt  at  taste  in  the  disposition  of  bows  of  bright- 
hued  calico  on  a  kind  of  dressing-stand  that  occupied  one 
corner.  Tighe  encircled  her  with  his  arm.  "  You  wor  al- 
ways a  good  mother,  an'  you  desarve  abetther  son  than  I  am  ; 
but  come  now  till  I  tell  you,  for  I'll  have  to  be  movin'  soon." 

She  would  have  busied  herself  in  preparing  a  meal  for  him, 
but  he  insisted  upon  having  her  undivided  attention  ;  so 
taking  a  seat  where  she  could  look  fondly  into  his  face,  she 
smoothed  the  rumpled  frills  of  her  cap,  and  prepared  to  listen. 

"  You  know,  mother,  how  heavy  me  heart  was  for  the 
masther  afther  they  thransported  him." 

"  I  do,  my  poor  boy,  I  do." 

"  Well,  I  couldn't  rest,  an*  unbeknownst  to  you  or  any  one, 
only  Shaun,  who  seemed  to  understand  it  all,  I  used  to  take  long 
walks  by  the  say-shore,  an'  I  used  to  picthure  to  mesel'  the 
lonely  jail  he  was  in  afar  from  us  all.  Begorra,  I  couldn't 
stand  it,  an'  I  said  to  Shaun  one  day,  '  I'll  go  to  him,  Shaun, 
if  I  swim  the  ocean,  I'll  rach  him  some  way,'  an'  the  dog 
looked  in  my  face  as  if  he  was  a  Chresthen  and  jist  knew 
what  I  was  sayin,'  an'  barked  ;  I  made  up  my  mind  from  that 
minute.  I  moinded  how  I  used  to  hear  them  tell  in  Mrs. 
Leary's  public  house  of  a  part  of  Ireland  where  big  say  ships 
sometimes  touched.  A  quare  thought  kem  into  me  head, 
an'  I  acted  on  it.  I  made  sthraight  for  the  part  they  mintioned, 
roesel'  an'  Shaun,  an'  afther  a  few  days  I  kem  to  a  fishin' 
village.  I  tould  the  people  a  story  about  mesel'  that  won 
them  complately,  an'  Shaun,  what  with  his  thricks  an*  his 
affection,  he  took  their  hearts  intoirely.  But  I  soon  found  the 
times  there  wor  changed  ;  big  say  ships  niver  touched  there 
any  more,  an'  me  heart  got  heavy  agin,  only  Shaun,  some- 
how, had  a  way  of  lightenin1  it ;  he'd  look  in  me  face  with 
that  look  of  a  Chresthen,  an'  wag  his  tail,  an'  bark,  an"  some- 
how I'd  take  courage. 

4<  At  last  good  luck  kem  in  my  way.  Shaun  and  mesel'  saved 
one  of  the  fishermen's  childhre  from  drownin*  one  day  whin 
a  big  wave  was  carryin'  it  away  foreninst  us,  and  the  poor 


MRS.   CAEMODT 


39 


father  was  so  thankful  that  he  said  there  wasn't  one  thing  he 
would  not  do  for  me." 

" '  Faith,'  said  I,  '  there's  one  thing  that  if  you'd  do  it  for 
me,  I'd  be  the  happiest  man  alive.' 

" '  An'  what  is  that  ? '  he  asked. 

14 '  To  get  me  off  to  Austhralia.' 

M  '  I'll  do  it,'  he  said,  '  if  I'm  a  livin'  man.' 

"  An'  he  was  as  good  as  his  word,  mother  :  he  tuk  me  tOi 
England  himself,  in  his  own  little  fishin'  smack,  an'  by  spakin* 
a  word  for  me  here  an'  there  among  some  of  the  sailors  that 
he  seemed  to  know  purty  well,  afther  awhile  I  found  mesel* 
shipped  for  Melbourne  as  one  of  the  hands,  though  the  sorra 
much  knowledge  I  had  of  what  that  meant — faith  it  was  as  an 
omadhaun  in  airnest  I  tuk  the  place,  an'  they  had  more  spoort 
out  of  me  than  they  iver  got  work. 

"  It  'd  take  too  long,  mother,  to  tell  you  all  that  happened 
afther  I  reached  Melbourne — how  by  dint  o'  beggin'  an'  blar- 
neyin'  I  made  me  way  across  the  counthry  till  I  kem  at  last 
to  the  jail  where  the  young  masther  was.  It  tuk  long  days 
an'  nights  o'  watchin'  afore  I  could  make  him  know  it  was 
me  was  near  him,  but  I  did  at  last,  an'  somehow  afther  that 
good  luck  was  on  our  side.  I  got  to  be  on  sarvice  at  the  jail, 
an'  I  med  fun  for  them  till  I  kem  to  be  a  soort  of  favorite 
among  them,  officers  an*  all.  Like  the  people  on  the  ship, 
they  thought  me  a  harrumless  omadhaun,  an'  they  didn't 
much  moind  what  I  was  about.  But  all  the  time  I  was  think- 
in'  an'  plannin'  an'  prayin' — yes,  mother,  on  many  a  night 
whin  I'd  look  up  to  the  stars  an'  away  to  the  say  that  parted 
me  from  ould  Ireland,  an'  whin  at  the  same  time  I'd  think  of 
the  broken-hearted  young  masther  so  far  from  all  he  loved, 
I  used  to  dhrop  on  me  knees  an'  ax  God  to  deliver  him. 

"Well,  there  kem  a  night  at  last  when  we  stood  together 
outside  the  prison  walls,  an*  afore  mornin'  we  wor  out  on  the 
ocean.  There  wasn't  wantin'  friends  to  help  us,  an',  though 
the  hue  and  cry  was  raised,  we  landed  safe  in  Ireland,  an' 
we're  here  for  the  last  three  days,  down  at  Hurley's, 


4o  CARROLL  VDONOQHUB. 

the  boys  meets,  watchin'  the  signs  o'  the  times,  an'  waitin'  to 
know  what  to  do. 

"  The  masther  is  for  stayin'  an'  takin'  his  chance  agin  with 
the  rest  of  the  lads,  but  they've  raised  the  sarch  for  him,  and 
moreover,  they're  scourin*  this  very  part  of  the  counthry  in 
such  a  hot  way  that  it'll  be  betther  for  him  to  lave  at  once. 
Some  of  the  boys  that'd  die  to  save  him  coaxed  him  to  fly  the 
counthry  entoirely,  an'  I  begged  him  on  me  two  knees  to  go. 
It  wasn't  one  bit  o'  use  ;  he  won't  stir  a  foot  till  he's  seen 
Miss  McCarthy.  So  to-night  he'll  make  the  trial  to  see  her, 
an'  whin  he  laves  her  they'll  have  a  boat  ready  for  him.  Do 
you  now,  mother,  go  up  to  the  cottage  an'  prepare  Miss  Mc- 
Carthy an'  Miss  O'Donoghue  for  his  comin'." 

The  kind-hearted  old  woman  had  been  weeping  silent  tears 
during  the  recital  ;  now  she  dried  her  eyes  very  vigorously, 
and  shook  her  head. 

"  There's  a  power  o'  sorrow  come  to  the  young  things.  I 
was  there  to-day,  an'  Miss  Clare  told  me  how  they'll  have  to 
give  up  even  the  cottage  that  shelthers  them.  Father  Meagher 
had  just  been  in  afore  me,  an'  he  had  made  them  promise  to 
come  at  once  to  his  house.  They  wor  preparin'  to  go,  for 
they  wor  in  mortal  dread  of  ould  Carter." 

Tighe  sprung  from  his  seat. 

"  By  the  powers,  mother,  you  don't  mane  that  Morty  Car- 
ther  is  decavin'  the  masther." 

"  I  do  that  same  ;  an'  more  betoken,  there's  many  a  black 
story  tould  about  him  lately." 

Tighe  folded  his  arms  and  dropped  his  head  upon  his 
breast  ;  he  was  evidently  in  very  troubled  thought.  His 
mother  did  not  disturb  him,  but  continued  to  dry  her  eyes 
»nd  to  shake  her  head. 

"Well,"  he  said  at  last,  as  if  speaking  to  himself,  "it'll  on- 
narve  him  intoirely  whin  he  hears  this."  Looking  up,  he  con- 
tinued in  a  different  tone  :  "  Go  to  thim  anyway,  mother,  an' 
tell  thim  the  masther'll  be  at  Father  Meagher's  as  soon  as  the 
night  is  rightly  settled ;  an'  now  good-by ;  mebbe  you'll  see 


MRS.    CARMODT.  41 

me  afore  long,  an*  mebbe  it'll  be  awhile  afore  you  11  lay  eyes 
on  me  agin  ;  but  don't  recave  me  in  the  scoldin*  way  you  did 
this  evenin'." 

He  caught  her  in  a  quick,  hearty  embrace,  and  wag  gent 
before  she  had  recovered  frora  its  effect. 


CHAPTER  Tl 

A    NEW    HOME. 

ALL  that  Father  Meagher's  tender,  priestly  heart  prompted 
he  did  tc  make  the  two  orphans  welcome  and  happy  in  his 
humble,  but  neat  and  cheerful  home  ;  and  both  girls  having 
repaired  to  the  little  chapel,  and  there  laid  their  griefs  at  the 
foot  of  the  sacred  altar,  returned  to  the  priest's  house,  at  least 
quite  resigned,  if  not  comforted.  There  were  no  more  tears 
on  Nora's  lovely  face,  and  Clare's  heightened  color  alone  be- 
trayed her  excited  thoughts. 

M  Sure  /  know  how  hard  it  is,"  spoke  up  pretty  Moira  Mogn- 
ahan,  Father  Meagher's  niece  and  deft  maid-of-all-work,  a 
merry,  impulsive  girl,  who  had  no  care  beyond  the  charge  of 
her  uncle's  simple  household. 

She  had  shown  the  ladies  to  their  apartment,  and  with  the 
privilege  of  long  and  intimate  acquaintance,  she  had  entered, 
and  had  stood  toying  with  her  apron-strings  while  they 
put  off  their  outer  garments. 

"  Didn't  I  feel  dreadful  bad,  when  Tighe  went  off  the  way 
he  did,"  she  pursued;  "an'  don't  I  keep  hopin'  an'  prayin' 

that  he'll  come  back  soon,  and "  She  was  interrupted 

by  a  loud  knock  at  the  front  door. 

Without  waiting  to  finish  her  sentence,  she  bounded  down 
the  stairs,  and  in  a  moment  they  heard  her  in  excited  and 
joyful  conversation.  When  she  returned,  her  eyes  were 
aflame,  her  cheeks  glowing  ;  she  danced  up  to  the  two  ladiei 
who  were  sitting  together. 

"  Oh,  I  have  such  news  for  you,  such  news !  I  begged 
Tighe's  mother  to  let  me  tell  you.  Mr.  O'Donoghue  is  back 
from  Australia ;  he's  in  Drommacohol  now,  and  he'll  be  here 
(4*) 


A  NEW  HOME.  45 

to-  night  to  see  you  both ;  an'  Tighe  is  home  ;  he  was  at  his 
mother's  this  afternoon.  Oh,  my  heart  will  burst  with  joy  !  " 

Nora  McCarthy  became  deathly  pale,  and  swayed  for  a 
moment  in  her  chair  as  if  she  would  faint,  while  Clare  half 
started  from  her  seat  and  looked  in  a  bewildered  way  at  the 
speaker.  Then  both  girls  turned  and  gazed  at  each  other. 
They  seemed  to  realize  at  last  the  full,  glad  purport  of  what 
they  had  heard,  and  throwing  themselves  into  each  other's 
arms,  they  burst  into  happy  tears. 

They  would  learn  the  story  from  Mrs.  Carmody,  Tighe 
a  Vohr's  mother,  and  they  repaired  to  the  little  parlor 
where  the  old  woman  excitedly  told  her  tale.  Expatiating  on 
Tighe's  "  wonderful  natural  smartness  "  in  managing  the  es- 
cape, and  making  many  an  amusing  digression  and  embellish- 
ment, she  gave  at  length  the  substance  of  Tighe's  story  ;  and 
she  thought  herself  well  rewarded  when  both  ladies  kissed  her 
and  mingled  their  happy  tears  with  her  own. 

Father  Meagher  entered  in  the  middle  of  the  exciting  and 
joyful  scene,  and  the  glad  tidings  were  told  to  him  by  every 
voice  at  once.  His  kind  old  eyes  grew  moist  with  the  emo- 
tion he  could  not  suppress,  and  his  delight  at  the  prospect  of 
so  soon  beholding  the  escaped  convict  was  as  keen  as  that 
of  the  two  young  ardent  hearts  beside  him  ;  but  his  manner 
was  not  entirely  free  from  anxiety  ;  Nora  saw  it,  and  she 
whispered,  while  Clare  was  engaged  with  Mrs.  Carmody  : 

"  You  foresee  danger,  father,  Carroll  will  incur  a  great  risk 
by  coming  here  ;  perhaps  you  have  heard  something  while 
you  were  out." 

The  priest  replied  in  as  low  a  tone  :  "  A  company  of  sol- 
diers have  arrived  at  Casey's,  and  they  seem  to  be  bent  on 
something ;  now  that  I  have  heard  about  Carroll's  escape, 
and  his  intended  visit  here,  I  fear  their  arrival  has  to  do  with 
him." 

Nora's  face  blanched. 

"  Oh,  father !  he  must  not  come  here ;  we  will  send  him 
word  of  the  danger." 


44  CARROLL  VDONOQHUB. 

Father  Meagher  shook  his  head. 

"  If  he  is  in  Dhrommacohol  now,  as  Mrs.  Carmody  says,  h« 
is  already  in  the  danger  ;  but  probably  there  are  those  about 
him  who  will  watch  for  and  warn  him  ;  besides  we  know  not 
to  what  precise  place  to  dispatch  a  messenger.  Cease  your 
alarm  ;  God,  who  has  so  well  aided  and  protected  him  thus 
far,  will  not  abandon  him  now.  Pray,  my  dear  child,  and  all 
will  be  well," 

There  was  hardly  need  of  the  admonition,  for  her  heart  was 
incessantly  sending  up  petitions  for  him  about  whom  every 
fiber  of  her  being  had  wound  itself,  and  now,  as  she  turned 
away  that  her  fear  might  not  communicate  itself  to  Clare,  her 
lips  were  faintly  murmuring  :  "  Oh,  my  God  !  save  him." 

Mrs.  Carmody  gladly  accepted  Moira's  invitation  to  remain 
for  the  evening,  and  under  pretence  of  arranging  for  the 
secret  reception  of  his  expected  guest,  Father  Meagher  con- 
cealed his  ominous  anxiety.  Nora  repaired  to  the  chapel, 
there  to  strive  to  banish  her  gloomy  foreboding,  and  to  gain 
by  prayer  the  calm  she  so  sadly  needed  ;  her  overwrought 
imagination  was  lending  the  wildest  terror  to  her  fears  ;  she 
saw  Carroll  snatched  from  her  even  before  he  could  make  this 
stolen  visit,  and  she  saw  him  doomed  this  time,  not  to  a  life 
imprisonment,  but  to  the  horrible  death  of  the  gallows  ;  she 
caught  his  last  agonizing  glance  ;  she  heard  the  last  words  of 
his  dying  lips,  words  which  told  of  his  faithful  affection  for 
her ;  and  utterly  overcome,  she  sobbed  aloud  on  the  little 
chancel  rail  beside  which  she  knelt.  She  had  supposed  her- 
self alone,  for  the  sacred  place  had  appeared  to  be  quite  de- 
serted when  she  entered  ;  but  a  form  had  been  kneeling  in 
the  rear  of  the  church.  On  the  entrance  of  Miss  McCarthy, 
it  had  crouched  so  low  that  it  could  not  be  seen  ;  now,  at  the 
sound  of  the  sobbing,  it  lifted  itself,  and  peered  eagerly  for- 
ward. It  was  that  of  a  man  of  slender  stature,  with  a  head 
sunken  between  his  shoulders,  and  covered  with  an  abundance 
of  thick,  shaggy  black  hair. 

"  My  God  I  "  sobbed  Nora,  confident  that  the  had  no  lit- 


A  NEW  HOMB. 


45 


tener  save  Him  who  was  inclosed  in  the  little  tabernacle, 
"  accept  the  sacrifice  I  have  made  of  myself  ;  I  do  not  ask  to 
be  ever  his  wife,  I  do  not  ask  to  be  spared  any  suffering  in 
this  world,  but  I  beg  Thee  to  spare  him — he  is  so  young,  so 
good.  Save  him  from  this  danger  that  threatens,  and  then  do 
with  me  what  Thou  wilt.  Thou  knowest  how  much  I  owe  to 
him  and  his — his  dead  father,  his  loving  sister.  Oh,  my  God ! 
»ave  him." 

The  listener  in  the  back  of  the  church  stood  erect,  placing 
his  hand  behind  his  ear,  as  if  to  catch  more  surely  the  words 
which  floated  to  him  ;  but  she  was  silent  after  that  burst,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  she  left  the  chapel. 

The  strange  man  walked  forward  to  the  altar  ;  with  that 
peculiar,  quick,  half-bend  of  the  body  with  which  the  Irish 
peasant  recognizes  the  presence  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  he 
bent  his  knee  as  he  neared  the  humble  little  chancel  rail,  and 
began  to  strike  his  breast. 

"  O  God  !  what  brought  me  here  at  all,  when  I  know  I'll 
have  to  do  it  ;  I'm  in  his  power,  and  he'll  squeeze  the  heart's 
blood  out  of  me.  She  said  in  her  prayer  that  she  didn't  ask 
to  be  spared  suffering  for  herself,  but  if  she  knew  what  was 
coming  to  her — oh  God  !  how  can  I  do  the  dirty  work  ?  " 

He  beat  his  breast  more  violently,  and  dropped  to  his 
knees,  bowing  his  head  till  his  face  well-nigh  touched  the 
floor,  and  his  scalding  tears  mingled  with  its  dust.  There  was 
a  sound  of  some  one  entering,  and  hastily  rising,  he  departed. 

Buoyant,  impulsive  Clare,  reveling  in  the  expectation 
of  being  once  more  folded  to  her  brother's  heart,  steadily 
put  aside  every  fear  that  came  for  his  safety  ;  he  had  escaped 
from  Australia,  he  was  there  in  Ireland  near  them  ;  and 
what  though  a  price  was  upon  his  head,  and  keen  scouts 
abroad  to  secure  him,  he  had  eluded  them  all  thus  far  and 
the  trusty  friends  who  had  already  aided  him  would  effect,  as 
they  intended  to  do,  his  final  escape  to  America.  Thus  Clare 
assured  herself,  and  she  went  about  the  little  house  assisting 
Moira,  and  chatting  with  Mrs.  Carmody  in  such  a  merry- 


4g  CARROLL  VDONOQHUK 

hearted  mood  that  Father  Meagher  studied  all  the  more  to 
conceal  his  anxiety  from  her. 

Moira  was  equally  mirthful,  and  Nora  looked  at  the  happy 
pair  and  tried  hard  not  to  let  the  gloom  of  her  own  sad,  long- 
ing heart  throw  any  shadow  upon  them. 

*  *  *  *  *  *  • 

The  night  for  which  so  many  hearts  yearned  came  at  last ; 
it  was  dark  as  the  faithful  lads  watching  by  the  coast  could 
wish,  and  it  threatened  to  be  wild  and  stormy.  The  wind 
rose  in  fitful  gusts,  and  swept  at  intervals  round  angles  and 
through  crevices  with  the  wild  hollow  shriek  of  a  soul  in  pain. 
It  was  a  night  to  make  man  and  beast  hasten  to  shelter,  and 
Carroll  O'Donoghue  and  Tighe  a  Vohr  buttoned  their  coats 
closer  about  them,  and  bent  their  heads  before  the  blast,  as 
both  walked  quickly  and  silently  forward  on  the  road  to 
Dhrommacohol.  Not  a  sound  save  that  of  their  own  hurried 
footsteps,  and  the  shrieking  of  the  wind  as  it  came  madly 
down  from  the  mountains,  broke  the  stillness,  and  the  darkness 
was  so  intense  that  they  could  not  see  a  pace  ahead. 

Neither  was  in  a  mood  for  conversation.  Carroll,  wrapped 
in  the  thought  of  her  whose  memory  never  left  him,  and  re- 
joiced at  the  prospect  of  so  soon  beholding  her,  forgot  for 
the  time  even  the  faithful  companion  at  his  side,  and  the  dan- 
ger into  which  he  might  be  hurrying,  while  Tighe,  too  heavy- 
hearted  to  yield  to  the  natural  humor  which  no  trouble  here- 
tofore had  entirely  suppressed,  was  absorbed  in  his  own 
inxious  thoughts. 

The  cautious  signal  which  Tighe  gave  at  the  back  entrance 
to  Father  Meagher 's  little  house  needed  no  repetition;  Moira 
and  Mrs.  Carmody  had  been  on  the  watch  there  a  long  hour, 
not  daring  to  open  the  door  and  look  forth,  lest  spies  might 
be  lurking  in  the  darkness,  but  they  had  remained  to  listen 
for  the  first  sound  of  him  whom  they  expected,  while  Father 
Meagher  and  the  ladies  kept  similar  watch  near  the  front  en- 
Irance.  The  back  door  was  opened  wide  to  Tighe's  gentle 
Up,  and  Moira  in  her  wild  delight  forgot  her  prudence  and 
cave  a  scream  of  iov. 


A  NEW  HOME.  47 

*  Whisht !  "  said  Tighe,  putting  his  hand  over  her  mouth, 
and  quickly  shutting  the  door,  "  you'll  bring  the  counthry  on 
us," 

The  scream  had  brought  the  little  party  from  the  parlor, 
Father  Meagher  first,  Nora,  white  and  trembling,  in  the 
rear. 

"  My  own  boy !  home  again.     Thank  God  !  ** 

The  escaped  convict  was  folded  in  the  priest's  arms  close 
to  the  heart  that  beat  with  all  a  father's  love  for  the  young 
fellow  so  full  of  generous  impulses  and  noble  daring;  he 
could  feel  the  tears  of  the  tender-hearted  clergyman  as  for  an 
instant  their  faces  touched,  and  his  own  eyes  were  misty  when 
he  turned  to  embrace  his  sister. 

Nora  still  modestly  lingered  in  the  rear  ;  indeed,  her  trem- 
bling limbs  would  scarcely  bear  her  forward  ;  but  Carroll,  im- 
patient to  greet  her,  released  himself  from  Clare  and  advanced 
to  her  with  outstretched  arms  ;  in  that  long,  warm  clasp  of 
hands,  in  that  gaze  of  each  into  the  other's  eyes,  though  no 
word  was  said,  their  souls  spoke,  and  Nora's  full  heart  could 
have  sobbed  itself  out  in  very  joy,  while  Carroll  would  have 
braved  again  all  his  past  hardships  for  such  a  moment  of 
happiness. 

There  was  a  sudden  exclamation  of  terror  from  Moira,  and 
she  pointed  excitedly  to  the  window.  She  had  been  stand- 
ing close  beside  it,  listening  with  a  pretty  archness  to  Tighe's 
tender  speeches,  and  she  averred  that  she  saw  a  form  flit  by 
it ;  she  could  not  say  whether  man  or  woman,  but  she  was 
sure  that  the  shadow  of  some  one  had  crossed  the  panes.  No 
one  else  had  perceived  it,  but  no  one  else  of  the  party  had 
been  looking  in  that  direction.  Alarm  became  immediately 
visible  on  every  face,  and  Nora  shrunk  closer  to  Carroll's 
side,  as  if  she  would  strive  to  protect  him,  while  Tighe  seized 
his  hat,  which  he  had  thrown  on  the  floor  on  his  entrance, 
and  thrust  it  upon  his  head. 

"  Lave  it  to  me,  father,"  he  said,  turning  to  the  priest,  "  to 
learn  if  there's  a  spy  about ;  an'  do  you  all  go  up-stairs,  au' 


^  CARROLL  0DONOQHU& 

be  quiet  till  I  come  back.  Mebbe  it's  only  a  notion  of 
Moira's,  afther  all" 

44  It  is  not,"  protested  Moira,  "  1  saw  it,  and " 

But  Tighe  had  gone  out  into  the  dark,  windy  night  The 
priest  led  the  way  to  the  parlor,  and  seated  between  his  sis- 
ter and  his  betrothed,  Carroll  O'Donoghue  told  in  a  subdued 
voice  the  story  of  his  escape,  and  how  the  latter  was  due  to 
the  faithful  affection  of  Tighe  a  Vohr.  But  every  whistle  of 
the  wind  made  the  girls  start  and  shudder,  and  even  Father 
Meagher,  touched  and  interested  as  he  was,  and  anxious  to 
conceal  his  own  alarm,  cast  hurried,  uneasy  glances  toward 
the  door. 

Tighe  came  back  to  reassure  them  :  "  Net  a  h'aporth  was 
to  be  seen  of  any  one.  It  must  be  all  Moira's  own  notion." 

Pretty  Moira  would  have  pouted  at  another  time  to  be 
deemed  so  fanciful,  but  Tighe's  assurance  had  made  her  too 
happy  now  to  assume  any  of  her  wilful  airs. 

44 1  have  not  had  time  even  to  welcome  you,  Tighe,"  said 
Father  Meagher,  advancing  to  Tighe  a  Vohr  and  extending 
his  hand.  It  was  caught  and  shaken  vigorously,  then 
dropped,  and  Tighe  stood  twirling  his  hat  and  looking  down 
in  awkward  bashfulness. 

"  Look  up  !  "  said  the  priest,  "  and  let  me  thank  you  for  all 
you  have  done  for  our  poor  lad." 

44  Don't,  yer  rivirence — I  couldn't  stan«j  it — it'd  unman  me 
intoirely  to  have  you  thankin'  me.  I  didn't  do  anything  but 
what  me  heart  tould  me  to  do  ;  but  I'll  make  bould  to  ax  one 
thing,"  looking  up  with  a  sly  glance. 

44  Ask  anything,  Tighe." 

44  If  you'll  say,  in  the  presence  of  me  mother  here,  that  you 
have  hopes  of  me  yet.  She  thinks  you  have  none,  because  of 
my  wild  doin's,  an*  mebbe  if  you  tould  her  she  was  wrong, 
it'd  be  a  consolation  to  her  when  I'd  get  into  the  next  skrim- 
mage." 

44  You  are  the  same  Tighe  a  Vohr,"  said  the  priest,  with  a 
low  laugh  which  he  could  not  restrain  ;  "  but  I  can  give  you* 


A  NEW  HOME. 


49 


poor  mother  the  assurance  you  wish — youll  be  a  steady  fel- 
low one  of  these  days,  when  you  see  the  folly  of  putting  youi 
heart  into  such  vain  things  as  fairs,  and  fights  and  races." 

"  Faith,  father,  I'll  never  lose  the  love  for  them  things  till 
my  heart  is  held  somewhere  else,"  and  he  looked  slyly  and 
archly  at  Moira,  who  tried  to  frown  him  into  silence.  The 
priest  affected  not  to  understand  him,  and  Moira  slipped  into 
the  kitchen,  where  Tighe  speedily  followed  her. 

"To  go  off  without  a  word,"  she  pouted  ;  "  and  111  engage, 
too,  that  you  never  thought  of  me  all  the  while  you  were 
away." 

"  Not  think  of  you  !  "  protested  Tighe ;  "  do  you  see  that  ? " 
pointing  to  the  knot  of  discolored  ribbon  on  his  faded  and 
worn  hat  ;  "  do  you  mind  the  time  when  I  tuk  that  from  your 
hair  where  it  lay  like  a — like  a — "  At  a  loss  for  a  simile,  he 
scratched  his  head  and  looked  about  him — "  like  a  poppy  in 
the  midst  of  a  cornfield.  Do  you  mind  how  you  fastened  it 
where  it  is  now  ?  well,  I  never  moved  it,  an'  I  never  will  till 
you  give  me  another  an'  a  betther  keepsake." 

"  It's  easy  enough  to  say  all  that,  Tighe,  but  if  you  meant  it, 
you  wouldn't  have  left  me  in  such  dreadful  suspense.  How 
did  I  know  but  those  horrid  soldiers  had  caught  you,  and 
transported  you  too  ? " 

"  No,  my  darlin',  I  transported  myself  for  the  masther's 
sake  ;  an'  now  don't  be  torturin'  that  purty  face  of  yours 
into  any  more  crass  looks — they're  not  becomin'  at  all. 
Sure  I'm  here  now,  ready  to  ax  your  pardon  on  my  knees  an 
to  swear  that  I'll  never  lave  you  again  without  tellin'  you  all 
about  it  afore  I  can  spake  a  word  to  you." 

A  loud,  peremptory  knock  sounded  at  the  front  door.  The 
little  party  in  the  parlor  and  the  two  in  the  kitchen  started  in 
terror.  Tighe  rushed  to  the  door,  and  listening  a  moment 
hurried  to  the  parlor. 

"  Hide  the  masther  !  it  is  the  soldiers.  Quick,  quick  I  * 
Moira's  wits  were  awake  and  keen. 

"  This  way." 


ea  CARROLL  VDONOGHUX. 

5W 

She  pulled  Carroll  with  her  in  the  direction  of  the  kitchen. 

Nora  and  Clare,  terror-stricken,  stood  dumb  and  motion- 
less. Father  Meagher  waved  them  back  to  their  seats,  and 
the  knocking  being  renewed  with  greater  force,  he  ordered 
Tighe  to  open.  Carroll  had  disappeared  with  Moira,  and 
Tighe,  satisfying  himself  by  a  hasty  glance  that  there  was 
nothing  to  awaken  suspicion  in  the  postures  of  the  occupants 
of  the  room,  went  to  the  door  with  a  heavy  step. 

"  Open,  or  we'll  break  the  infernal  thing  in  ! "  shouted  a 
gruff  voice,  and  the  menace  was  accompanied  by  a  shower  of 
blows  tha.  threatened  to  demolish  the  door  itself. 

"  Aisy,"  answered  Tighe,  as  he  proceeded  with  provoking 
leisure  to  make  several  feints  of  opening  to  the  soldiers. 
"It's  a  quare  time  of  night  you  come  breaking  into  the  clargy's 
house,"  he  continued,  "  like  a  set  of  scrawneens  as  ye  are  that 
niver  knew  what  it  was  to  be  about  dacint  business.  If  I  was 
the  masther  here,  I'd  give  you  the  right  about  with  a  blessin' 
that  mightn't  mane  good  luck  to  you." 

"  Open  the  door,"  thundered  the  gruff  voice  which  had 
spoken  before,  and  a  tremendous  rap  that  made  the  door 
shiver  and  Tighe  himself  start  back  in  some  affright,  accom- 
panied the  words. 

"  Will  you  open  the  door,  or  must  I  do  it  myself  ?"  ordered 
the  priest  in  severe  tones. 

"  Sure,  father,  I'm  doin'  my  best ;  but  there's  a  ketch  in 
the  bolt — bad  cess  to  yez  ! "  as  the  blows  began  to  shower 
again,  "  but  ye're  the  onmanageable  lot,  there  !  " 

He  flung  the  door  open  so  suddenly  and  widely  that  two 
of  the  foremost  of  the  soldiers  who  were  close  against  it  fell 
headlong  into  the  little  entry. 

"It's  down  ye  ought  to  be,"  said  Tighe,  contemptuously 
surveying  his  fallen  foes,  as  they  hastily  and  with  visible  mor- 
tification in  their  faces  struggled  to  their  feet.  The  priest 
stood  on  the  threshold  of  the  little  parlor. 

"  To  what,  gentlemen,  am  I  indebted  for  such  an  unseemly 
Tint?" 


A  NJSW  HOME,  g  i 

The  noble  poise  of  his  dignified,  venerable  form,  the  calm, 
firm  tones  of  his  voice,  and  the  kind,  gentle  expression  of  hii 
face,  brought  into  full  view  by  the  rays  of  the  entry  lamp,  pen- 
dent above  him,  somewhat  abashed  the  fierce  and  impetuous 
soldiers  now  crowding  into  the  Iktle  passage-way.  They  drew 
back,  and  seemed  glad  to  make  deferential  way  for  one  who 
approached  from  their  rear.  Bowing  low  to  the  priest,  and 
with  a  grace  that  savored  more  of  court  than  camp,  he  said  : 

"  I  regret,  reverend  sir,  to  be  obliged  to  make  so  un- 
seemly and  untimely  a  visit,  but  duty  compels.  From  direct 
information  received  not  two  hours  ago,  we  believe  an 
escaped  Fenian  convict  to  be  secreted  in  your  house.  We 
have  come  to  search  for  him." 

Father  Meagher  retreated  a  few  steps  into  the  parlor  ;  the 
officer  followed,  motioning  the  soldiers  back,  and  in  a  moment 
he  stood  in  the  presence  of  Nora  McCarthy  and  Clare 
O'Donoghue. 

"  Captain  Dennier  ! "  burst  from  both  the  girls,  and  the 
officer,  though  much  and  somewhat  painfully  surprised,  re- 
sponded to  the  recognition  with  his  usual  inimitable  grace. 

"  I  shall  not  intrude  farther,"  he  said  to  the  priest,  "  if  you 
will  say  that  the  person  of  whom  we  are  in  search  is  not  in 
the  house." 

Had  he  looked,  the  pallid  face  and  quivering  lip  of  Nora, 
and  the  changing  color  and  hurried  breathing  of  Clare  would 
have  given  him  the  information  he  did  not  desire  to  receive, 
but  he  kept  his  eyes  averted  as  if  he  feared  to  betray  his 
own  painful  embarrassment. 

Father  Meagher  evaded  the  momentous  question. 

"  You  see  here,"  he  said,  two  young  friends  who,  having 
been  evicted  from  their  own  home,  have  consented  to  accept 
the  shelter  of  my  humble  roof,  and  if  you  think  that  it  also 
covers  the  person  for  whom  you  are  looking,  you  are  at  liberty  to 
search  ;  I  give  you  free  access  to  every  part  of  this  little  dwell- 
ing. "  Moira, — "  he  called  to  his  niece  with  the  hope  that  her 
quick  wit  would  enable  her  to  direct  the  search  without  ex- 


Jt  CARROLL  VDONOQHUK 

posing  the  place  in  which  she  might  have  hidden  Carroll 
But  instead  of  Moira's  answer,  there  was  a  shout  from  the 
soldiers  who  were  left  on  guard  without  the  house,  and  in 
another  moment  the  recaptured  Carroll  was  led  into  the 
parlor. 

Finding  no  place  of  effectual  concealment  in  the  kitchen 
to  which  Moira  led  him,  and  fearing  to  compromise  the 
priest,  should  he  be  found  in  the  house  of  the  latter,  he  de- 
termined to  risk  the  chance  of  an  escape  by  the  back  en- 
trance ;  for  a  few  yards  he  was  safe,  owing  to  the  darkness, 
but  a  keener  scout  than  any  of  the  redcoats  would  have 
proved  to  be  scented  his  trail  ;  the  alarm  was  given,  and 
the  soldiers  on  guard  quickly  seized  their  prey. 

Captain  Dennier  started  back  in  strange  dismay.  At  the 
sight  of  the  prisoner  a  singular  expression  came  into  his  face. 
One  by  one  he  was  linking  all  the  occurrences  of  that  event- 
ful day  together,  and  he  was  learning  for  the  first  time  that 
the  Australian  convict  brother  of  Clare  O'Donoghue,  the 
manly,  genial  stranger  \\hom  he  had  met  on  the  rocks,  and 
the  escaped  convict  for  whose  recapture  he  had  been  specially 
detailed  to  Cahirciveen  were  one  and  the  same  person.  In- 
terested, more  than  interested  as  he  was  in  the  wilful,  spirited 
Clare,  swayed  by  impulses  more  favorable  to  the  Irish  cause 
than  to  British  supremacy,  he  shrunk  in  bitterness  of  soul 
from  the  duty  which  was  now  his.  He  shrunk,  and  yet  in 
the  same  moment  he  loathed  himself  for  this  seeming  weak- 
ness. To  restore  himself  in  his  own  estimation  he  assumed 
a  sternness  of  mien  utterly  foreign  to  his  present  feeling,  and 
turning  to  the  foremost  of  his  men,  he  motioned  him  forward. 

"  Bind  the  prisoner." 

The  order  was  given  in  cold,  even  tones  that  betrayed  not 
by  the  faltering  of  a  syllable,  nor  the  motion  of  a  muscle,  what 
it  had  cost  to  utter  the  words. 

Carroll  O'Donoghue  stood  erect,  and  extended  his  hands 
for  the  manacles.  The  priest  turned  aside,  his  head  bowed 
almost  to  his  breast,  and  the  trembling  of  his  form  telling  how 


A  NEW  HOUR  SJ 

deeply  he  was  agitated.  Clare,  violently  excited  and  indig- 
nant, could  control  herself  no  longer.  She  sprung  to  her 
brother's  side  ;  she  caught  his  manacled  hands  in  her  own, 
and  with  her  eyes  full  of  passionate  tears  that  threatened  each 
moment  to  become  a  sob,  she  said  to  Captain  Dennier  : 

"  He  is  my  brother ;  he  is  the  sole  protector  of  two  poor 
orphan  girls,  and  yet  you  command  his  arrest ;  this,  then,  ii 
the  sequel  of  your  intrusion  into  our  home  a  few  hours  since, 
the  intrusion  you  so  deeply  regretted," — spoken  with  an 
accent  of  intense  scorn — "  the  intrusion  for  which  you  made  so 
humble  an  apology  ;  and  you  prayed  to  have  no  enmity  be- 
tween us  as  individuals  ; "  her  voice  quivered  with  sarcasm, 
"  you  deplored  the  suffering  entailed  upon  us  poor  victims  of 
your  country's  oppression.  This  act  shows  how  deeply  you 
deplore  it." 

"  Hush,"  interposed  Carroll,  "  you  are  talking  wildly  ;  this 
officer  is  but  doing  his  duty." 

A  slight  flush  colored  the  captain's  cheeks,  but  it  was  the 
only  sign  of  how  sharply  her  words  had  cut  him. 

"  Remove  the  prisoner,"  he  ordered,  in  the  same  tones  he 
had  previously  used,  and  withdrawing  a  little  as  if  he  some- 
what feared  the  effect  of  his  command. 

The  soldiers  started  forward  to  obey  the  order  ;  one  of 
them,  annoyed  at  the  delay  which  had  already  ensued,  seized 
the  young  man  roughly.  Clare  wound  her  arms  about  him, 
and  Nora  at  his  side  could  only  look  the  appeal  she  had  not 
the  strength  to  make. 

u  A  moment — give  me  a  moment  to  convince  this  poor  girl 
that  I  must  go,"  said  Carroll,  as  he  strove  to  detach  himself 
from  his  sister's  embrace. 

"  You  are  making  matters  worse  for  me,"  he  whispered  to 
Clare  ;  "  let  me  go." 

She  obeyed  him,  and  threw  herself  sobbing  into  Nora 
McCarthy's  arms. 

Carroll  knelt  at  the  feet  of  the  clergyman.  "Bless  me, 
father." 


J4  CARROLL 

The  priest's  voice  shook  with  emotion.  "  God  bless  you, 
my  bra  ^e  boy  !  may  He  ever  bless  you,  and  give  you  strength 
to  do  the  right." 

The  soldiers  closed  about  him  ;  from  the  threshold  he 
raised  his  manacled  hands  in  a  sad  farewell,  his  eyes  resting 
last  and  longest  on  his  weeping  betrothed. 

Captain  Dennier  also  turned  to  say  farewell.  "  Accuse  me 
of  being  stern  and  cruel,  if  you  will,"  he  said,  looking  at 
Clare ;  "  but  I  could  not  be  false  to  my  principles,  to  my 
honor ;  I  regret  exceedingly  the  painful  part  I  have  been 
obliged  to  perform,  and  I  beg  you  in  calmer  moments  to 
think  more  kindly  of  me." 

They  departed,  Tighe  a  Vohr  following  in  their  wake 


CHAPTER  VIl 

MACHINATIONS. 

THE  storm  continued,  growing  each  moment  in  fierceness ; 
torrents  of  rain  accompanied  the  shrieking  wind,  and  at  inter- 
vals, when  a  temporary  lull  ensued,  and  the  elements  seemed 
to  have  ended  their  strife,  it  was  only  to  break  forth  again 
with  more  appalling  fury. 

During  one  of  these  lulls  a  man  started  up  from  a  hedge  by 
the  road-side,  as  if  he  had  been  seeking  protection  from  the 
storm  ;  but  he  also  seemed  to  have  had  another  motive  than  shel- 
ter, for  instead  of  looking  for  a  more  desirable  covert,  he  stood 
in  the  attitude  of  listening.  The  night  was  too  dark  to  dis- 
cern even  the  outline  of  a  passing  form,  but  the  brief  subsid- 
ing of  the  tempest  enabled  him  to  hear  distinctly,  and  just  as 
the  wild  strife  of  the  elements  was  about  again  to  begin,  he 
heard  approaching  the  hurried  tramp  of  men.  Veering  to  the 
side,  he  waited  until  they  had  passed,  recognizing  by  their 
voices,  and  fragments  of  their  conversation,  consisting  mostly 
of  anathemas  on  the  storm,  that  they  were  English  soldiers. 
He  dropped  into  the  train,  the  darkness  screening  him  from 
observation. 

Drenched,  and  heartily  tired  from  their  conflict  with  the 
wind  and  rain  and  the  toil  of  a  journey  over  a  difficult  road, 
the  party  halted  after  a  half  hour's  march  at  a  sort  of  country 
hotel.  It  was  of  rather  pretentious  size  for  the  unassuming 
little  country  place  in  which  it  was  situated,  and  bore  evidence 
in  its  well-lighted  windows  and  broad,  illuminated  doorway, 
of  unusual  accommodation  for  wayfarers.  Into  this  building 
passed  Captain  Dennier  and  his  men  with  their  prisoner,  and 
closely  followed  by  Tighe  a  Vohr.  He  who  had  surreptitious- 
(If) 


$6  CARROLL  CTDONOGffUB. 

ly  joined  them  kept  in  the  shadow,  but  in  such  a  position  that, 
without  being  himself  seen,  he  could  observe  the  men  as  they 
passed  within  the  portal.  When  the  door  was  shut  upon  the 
last  of  the  soldiers,  he  turned  suddenly  and  walked  back  as 
rapidly  as  the  storm  would  allow  him,  by  the  road  he  had 
just  pursued.  He  needed  no  light  to  guide  him  on  his  way, 
and  the  elements  beating  about  him  were  in  unison  with  the 
battle  waging  in  his  own  heart.  Hatred,  remorse,  and  a 
wretched  feeling  of  despair  made  him  sometimes  fling  open 
the  tattered  coat  that  covered  his  naked  breast,  and  lift  the 
well-worn  hat  from  his  shaggy  head  that  the  wind  might  cool 
his  inward  fever.  After  intervals  when  his  thoughts  grew 
maddening  in  their  intensity,  a  curse  or  a  groan  escaped  him, 
and  he  clenched  his  hands  and  beat  his  bosom  in  fruitless 
agony. 

Thus  journeying,  he  arrived  at  length  on  the  outskirts  of  a 
village.  Threading  the  deserted  streets  with  quickened  gait, 
he  stopped  before  one  of  a  row  of  plain  little  cottages.  Rais- 
ing the  latch,  he  gave  a  peculiar  signal  ;  it  brought  at  once 
to  the  door  a  man  in  a  gaudy  dressing-gown,  and  with  coarse 
sandy  hair  bristling  from  under  a  nightcap.  The  light  shin- 
ing from  an  adjoining  apartment  revealed  him  distinctly. 

"  It's  time  for  you  to  arrive  ! "  was  his  salutation,  as  he 
admitted  the  new-comer.  The  latter  scowled. 

"  Have  a  care,  Morty  Carter,  for  I'm  a  desperate  man  to- 
night. I  did  your  dirty  work,  and  I've  come  for  the  reward 
you  promised." 

"  Easy,  now,  easy,  and  well  see.  Come  in  here,  and  we'll 
talk  the  matter  over." 

He  led  the  way  to  tne  open  room,  seating  himself  at  a  little 
table  covered  with  papers  in  disordered  arrangement,  and 
motioned  his  visitor  to  a  chair  near.  Then,  appearing  to 
notice  for  the  first  time  the  dripping  condition  of  the  latter, 
he  rose,  and  going  to  a  cupboard,  brought  forth  a  bottle  and 
glass.  Pouring  out  an  unusually  large  quantity  of  the  liquor. 
be  tendered  it  to  his  guest.  It  was  angrily  pushed  away. 


MACHINATIONS.  57 

"You'd  play  on  my  weakness  again,  as  you  did  many  i 
toime  before.  No,  I'll  have  none  of  it  until  you  come  to 
terms.  I've  done  your  work,  your  divil's  work,  an'  now  am 
I  to  see  Cathleen,  or  not  ?  " 

He  rose  in  his  fierce  eagerness,  bending  across  the  table 
till  his  hot  breath  and  the  steam  from  his  dripping  garments 
unpleasantly  assailed  Mr.  Carter's  sensitive  nostrils. 

"  Sit  down,  man,  and  don't  be  so  unreasonable.  Give  me 
time  to  think,  and  tell  me  how  you  succeeded — but  no  ;  I'll 
not  hear  a  word  from  you,  and  I'll  not  speak  one  word  to 
you,  until  you  take  that  to  keep  out  the  cold  you'll  get  after 
this  wetting.  Take  it,  Rick."  He  held  the  glass  almost  to 
the  miserable  creature's  lips,  and  spoke  in  a  coaxing  tone. 
It  was  a  tone  so  foreign  to  him,  and  it  was  assumed  with 
such  awkward  grace,  that  he  to  whom  it  was  addressed 
laughed  in  mockery. 

"  When  did  you  oil  your  tongue  so,  Carter  ?  but  you're 
wasting  its  sweetness  on  me." 

Carter  quelled  his  rising  passion  by  an  effort,  and  again  ten- 
dering the  liquor,  he  said,  less  persuasively,  however  :  "  Refuse 
it  or  not  as  you  will,  but  you'll  get  no  answer  from  me  until  you 
take  it,  and  until  I  hear  what  you've  done ;  nor  shall  I  listen 
to  you  until  you  drink  it."  He  set  the  glass  down  where  the 
tempting  fume  could  ascend  into  the  face  of  the  poor,  half- 
famished  wretch,  and  folding  his  arms,  stood  back  in  a  reso- 
lute attitude.  The  temptation  was  strong  to  one  who  had  not 
tasted  food  for  hours,  and  the  sparkle  of  the  liquor  as  it  lit 
up  the  glass,  and  its  stimulating  odor,  conquered  Rick  of 
the  Hills.  He  raised  the  tumbler  and  quaffed  its  contents 
at  a  draught.  Morty  Carter  smiled  ;  then  he  stepped  forward 
with  alacrity,  and  resumed  the  chair  he  had  left. 

"Now  tell  me,  Rick,  how  you  succeeded." 

"I  went,  as  you  told  me,  an'  prowled  unobserved  about 
the  priest's  house  till  I  saw  Carroll  O'Donoghue  an'  Tighe 
a  Vohr  go  in  ;  then  I  posted  away  to  Casey's  an'  told  Cap- 
tain Dennier.  It  wasn't  long  till  the  soldiers  were  at  Fathei 


g  CARROLL  aDONOQHUB, 

Meagher's,  an'  keeping  guard  outside  the  house  as  well  as  in 
it ;  Carroll  tried  to  escape  by  the  back  door  of  the  kitchen, 
but  I  spotted  him,  an*  gave  the  alarm  to  the  soldiers  that 
were  almost  next  him.  After  that,  I  waited  on  the  road  till 
the  soldiers  passed  with  him,  then  I  followed,  an'  watched 
them  all  go  in  to  Casey's." 

Carter  rubbed  his  hands.     "  Well  done,  Rick." 

"  Aye,  it's  well  done  for  you,  Morty  Carter,  but  it's  hell's 
own  work  for  me  ;  my  soul  was  black  enough  before,  but 
how  is  it  now  ?  I  tell  you, —  "  roused  into  his  old  fierceness 
by  the  tenor  of  his  thoughts — "  I'll  do  no  more  of  it.  Tell 
me  where  Cathleen  is,  an'  I'll  beg  my  way  to  her.  You  prom- 
ised to  tell  me  if  I  succeeded  in  this  ;  keep  your  word." 

"  Never  fear  me,  I'll  keep  my  promise  ;  but  I've  a  word  or 
two  more  to  say.  But  drink,  man,  to  keep  out  the  cold." 

Again  he  poured  from  the  bottle,  and  again,  more  easily 
tempted  than  before,  because  of  his  recent  potation,  poor, 
miserable  Rick  quaffed  the  contents. 

"  Do  you  see,  now,"  resumed  Carter,  drawing  his  chair 
closer  to  his  visitor,  and  speaking  in  a  confidential  whisper, 
"  it'll  not  be  safe  for  you  nor  me  till  Carroll  O'Donoghue  is 
hung — the  evidence  is  pretty  sound  against  him — and  then 
the  property  will  be  mine,  and  may  be  her  dainty  ladyship  Miss 
McCarthy  wouldn't  mind  becoming  Mrs.  Carter." 

Despite  Rick's  rapidly  increasing  maudlin  condition,  there 
arose  within  him  amazement  and  indignation  at  such  an  as- 
piration on  the  pan  of  his  companion,  and  he  started  from 
his  chair,  but  finding  himself  too  unsteady  to  stand,  he  sunk 
into  it  again. 

"  She  wouldn't  look  at  you,  Carter,  if  you  had  all  Ireland 
to  your  back  ;  and  I'd  be  sorry  if  she  would." 

Again  Carter,  by  an  effort,  controlled  his  rising  anger. 

"  May  be  she  won't  be  able  to  help  herself  ;  may  be  she'll  be 

glad  to  accept  me  when  she  knows "  he  stooped  forward 

and  whispered  in  Rick's  ear.  It  had  the  effect  of  completely 
iobering  him  for  a  moment.  He  jumped  to  his  feet,  thii 
time  able  to  itand  without  even  the  suooort  of  the  chair. 


MACHINATIONS. 


59 


*  Are  you  man,  or  divil,  Morty  Carter,  to  plot  the  like  of 
that  ?  And  do  you  think  I'll  lend  myself  to  that  scheme  for 
you  ?  I  did  as  bad  for  you  twenty-five  years  ago,  but  it 
wasn't  the  hellish  work  then  that  it  would  be  now.  No,  you'll 
never  count  on  me  for  that  ;  and  the  tongue  that  would 
utter  that  lie  ought  to  be  blasted  forever." 

For  an  instant  Carter  quailed  before  this  sudden  and  unex- 
pected resistance  ;  then,  recovering  his  wonted  boldness,  he 
said  : 

"  You'll  do  it,  Rick  ;  you  know  you  will,  and  then  I'll  keep 
my  word  with  you  ;  then  you  shall  see  Cathleen,  and  have 
peace  and  prosperity  to  boot.  But  if  you  refuse  me,  never 
shall  you  see  Cathleen,  never  shall  you  know  her  fate,  and 
you  shall  swing  for  the  murder  at  B  -  ;  I  swear  it." 

The  sudden  sobriety  of  Rick  had  as  suddenly  yielded  to  his 
former  condition,  and  confused  by  the  horror  of  Carter's 
proposition,  and  the  fear  caused  by  the  latter's  determined  at- 
titude, he  yielded  to  all  the  weakness  of  his  wretched  state. 

"  For  the  love  of  God,  Morty  Carter,  don't  ask  me  to  do 
that.  I'll  do  any  other  mortal  thing  for  you.  Have  you  a 
heart,  man  -  " 

Utterly  overcome,  he  dropped  his  head  on  the  table  and 
cried  like  a  child.  Carter  looked  at  him  contemptuously  for 
a  moment,  then,  knowing  that  a  sound  drunken  sleep  would 
speedily  succeed  all  this  maudlin  sentiment,  he  left  the  room, 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

FATHER  O'CONNOR. 

*  WILL  be  ever  come  ? " 

The  words  were  spoken  by  a  man  who  seemed  to  be  In  the 
Agony  of  death,  his  pallid  face,  more  ghastly  pallid  because  of 
the  contrast  its  own  white  hue  presented  to  the  blood  stains 
just  showing  beneath  a  bandage  about  the  temples,  was  con- 
tracted into  an  expression  of  intense  pain,  and  his  large,  black 
eyes  burned  with  the  fire  of  a  mortal  disease.  His  stalwart 
frame  shook  with  the  throes  of  agony,  and  the  poor  pallet 
upon  which  he  was  extended  trembled  beneath  him. 

A  middle-aged  kindly-faced  woman  was  endeavoring  in 
simple,  uncouth  fashion  to  soothe  him,  and  a  man  in  the  dress 
of  an  Irish  laborer  stood  sorrowfully  looking  on.  To  the 
rear  of  the  bed  in  an  open  doorway  were  grouped  a  half  dozen 
sad,  expectant,  wondering  faces,  men  and  women  of  the  Irish 
peasant  class  ;  but,  impressed  with  the  necessity  of  silence  for 
the  dying  man,  scarcely  a  breath  escaped  them. 

"  Will  he  ever  come  ?  * 

The  words  were  repeated  with  a  sadly  pathetic  force,  and  he 
struggled  to  free  one  of  his  hands  from  the  coverlet,  and  raise 
it  to  his  head  ;  it  was  bandaged,  and  before  he  had  half  suo 
ceeded  in  his  task  he  had  dropped  it  with  a  moan  of  intense  pain. 

"  He  will  come,  acushla,"  whispered  the  woman  at  his  side, 
as  she  gently  covered  the  poor  helpless  arm. 

"  Father  Meagher,  God  bless  him,  never  disappointed  one 
of  us  yet,  an'  whin  he  hears  of  this  case  where  it  was  a  fight 
wid  Ihe  soldiers,  he'll  fly  like  the  lightnin' ;  but  it's  a  good 
•tep  away,  an1  the  messenger's  not  so  long  gone." 

There  was  a  movement  among  the  little  party  in  the  door 
(60) 


FATHER  O'CONNOR.  61 

way  ;  a  respectful  falling  back  to  make  way  for  some  one, 
and  Father  O'Connor  entered,  his  dusty  garb  and  perspiring 
face  giving  evidence  of  somewhat  long  and  hasty  travel. 

"  At  last,"  murmured  the  sufferer  ;  and  the  woman  respect- 
fully courtesying  to  the  priest,  said  : 

"  We  were  expecting  Father  Meagher,  your  riverance." 

M  He  sent  me  in  his  place,"  answered  the  clergyman  as  he 
drew  a  stool  to  the  bedside  and  seated  himself. 

The  wondering  faces  in  the  doorway  had  disappeared,  with- 
drawn to  one  of  the  neighbors'  houses  while  the  priest  should 
be  closeted  with  his  penitent,  and  the  woman  and  the  man 
had  also  respectfully  retired,  but  only  to  the  outer  apartment. 

"  You  are  badly  hurt,  my  man,"  said  the  priest,  kindly. 

"  I  am,  your  riverence  :  I  got  my  death  wound  ;  but  I'd 
not  mind  it  if  it  wasn't  for  the  two  I  left  in  Ballycarry,  my  old 
mother  and  Cathleen." 

For  an  instant  his  eyes  were  dim  with  tears,  then,  as  if  even 
in  that  final  moment  he  deemed  such  an  emotion  unmanly, 
he  stifled  it  by  a  convulsive  effort,  and  continued  : 

"  I'd  give  my  heart's  blood  for  Ireland,  an'  count  it  little. 
When  the  news  of  the  rising  in  Kildare  came  to  us  I  was  for 
joining  the  boys  at  once,  an'  I  did,  though  me  mother  strove 
to  hinder  me  with  her  prayers  an'  her  entreaties,  an'  Cathleen 
tried  hard  to  keep  me." 

Again  he  paused,  because  of  the  emotion  which  would  have 
unmanned  him,  and  Father  O'Connor  said  with  firm  persua- 
siveness : 

"  You  must  stop  this,  my  poor  fellow  ;  you  are  too  weak  to 
talk  in  that  strain." 

"  No,  father  !  for  the  love  of  Heaven  let  me  go  on.  My 
heart's  burstin'  with  all  I'm  thinkin',  an'  it'll  be  a  relief  to 
spake  my  thoughts  to  you,  for  you'll  not  re  vale  them.  Cath- 
leen came  to  us  when  she  was  a  baby — a  man  named  Morty 
Carter  brought  her."  Father  O'Connor  gave  a  slight  start. 
"  He  brought  her  for  my  mother  to  take  care  of,  saying  that 
«he  was  an  orphan  niece  of  his,  an'  that  he  was  flyin'  with  her 


^  CARROLL  VDONOQHUB. 

from  her  father's  people,  because  they  wanted  the  child  to 
make  her  a  Protestant,  an'  he  was  in  mortal  dread  that  they'd 
ever  find  her.  My  mother  was  a  widow  then,  and  I,  her  only 
cklid,  was  eight  years  old.  The  infant  was  to  be  called  by 
our  name,  Kelly,  an'  she  was  to  be  told  nothin'  beyant  that 
Carter  was  her  uncle.  Carter  paid  my  mother  for  all  this, 
an*  he  came  regularly  to  set  us.  We  were  very  happy,  for 
Cathleen  was  the  same  as  an  own  sister  to  me,  an'  whin  she 
grew  up  she  was  more,  father,  for  I  loved  her  ;  but  she 
wouldn't  listen  when  I'd  spake  of  that  ;  her  heart  was  set  on 
other  things — it  was  in  the  convent  where  she  went  to  school, 
an'  where  she'd  be  willin'  to  stay  always  if  it  wasn't  for  the 
lonesomeness  my  mother'd  have  without  her." 

Again  he  was  forced  to  pause  from  exhaustion  and  pain, 
and  the  priest,  leaving  him  for  a  moment,  went  to  the  outer 
room  to  learn  if  a  surgeon  had  been  summoned. 

"No,  your  riverence,"  said  tha  man,  "he  begged  us  not  to 
get  a  docthor,  only  the  priest ;  an'  sure  it's  little  good  the 
docthor  could  do  him,  anyhow." 

Father  O'Connor  could  not  help  mentally  agreeing  with  the 
observation,  but  he  insisted  on  a  messenger  being  dispatched 
immediately  for  the  nearest  physician,  and  returning  to  the 
sufferer,  he  held  to  his  lips  the  drink  of  cold  water  which  the 
latter  craved. 

"  I'm  stronger,  father,"  he  said,  letting  his  head  drop  back 
on  the  pillow  with  a  sigh  of  relief,  "  the  pain  is  easier."  Then, 
pausing  to  draw  a  deep  breath,  he  resumed  :  "  It's  two 
months  now  since  I  said  good-by  to  my  mother  and  Cathleen, 
since  I  joined  the  boys.  I  thought  we'd  do  great  things  for 
Ireland,  we  were  all  so  hot  an'  eager  to  be  fightin' ;  but  the 
other  power  is  too  strong.  We  can't  do  much  only  die  for 
the  old  land.  They  beat  us  back  to-day  when  we  made  the 
attack  on  the  barracks,  and  if  it  wasn't  for  the  captain's  dar- 
ing they'd  have  murdered  me  outright.  But  it's  not  that  I'd 
talk  of  now.  I  want  to  ask  you  this,  father.  Will  you  try  to 
find  Morty  Carter  ?  The  boys  here  think  a  power  of  him, 


FATHER  VOONNOR.  63 

And  trust  him  entirely.  The  other  night,  when  word  wai 
brought  to  Hurley's  of  some  search  goin'  to  be  made  by  the 
authorities,  a  paper  was  given  for  safe  keeping  to  Carter  ,  it 
had  the  names  an'  the  places  of  all  them  that  the  English 
would  be  glad  to  seize,  an'  a  power  of  information  besides." 

He  paused  to  recover  his  gasping  breath,  and  when  he  re- 
sumed, his  voice  was  thick  and  hoarse.  "  Altogether  it  would 
have  been  a  great  document  for  the  government  to  get  hold 
of,  an'  somehow  I  didn't  like  the  look  in  Carter's  eyes  when 
he  took  it,  but  maybe  I  was  wrong." 

Again  he  paused,  and  in  response  to  the  priest's  whispered 
admonition,  said,  when  once  more  he  had  recovered  sufficient 
strength  :  "  Yes,  father,  I  will  be  quick  now,  for  I  have  only  this 
to  say  :  will  you  tell  Morty  Carter  all  that  X  told  you  about  Cath- 
leen  ?  he  can't  blame  me  for  tellin'  you,  as  you  are  a  priest,  and  he 
knows  that  I  never  told  mortal  before,  anything  save  that 
Cathleen  was  a  cousin  of  my  own — I  never  told  that  Carter 
was  her  uncle.  We  all  kept  the  secret — the  young  crayture 
herself,  an*  my  mother  an'  me.  Will  you  do  this  for  me, 
father,  an'  then  will  you  ask  him  if  he'll  continue  the  bit  of 
support  to  my  poor  ould  mother  ?  Cathleen  will  not  leave 
her  till  she  dies  ;  I  know  she'll  not." 

The  whole  of  his  poor,  struggling  soul  seemed  to  be  in  his 
pleading  eyes  as  he  turned  them  on  the  pitying  face  above 
him. 

"  Yes,  my  poor  fellow,"  answered  the  priest,"  I  shall  do  all 
you  ask  ? " 

"  An'  one  thing  more — will  you  write  to  Cathleen  ?  I'll  not 
ask  you  to  make  the  journey  to  see  her  ;  it  would  be  too  far 
for  your  reverence,  but  write  to  her,  an'  tell  her  how  the  love 
in  my  heart  for  her  never  left  it,  an'  how,  whin  she's  one  day 
afore  the  althar,  givin'  her  pure  young  heart  to  God  foriver, 
she  will  not  forget  to  pray  for  William  Kelly.  An'  say  to  my 
mother,  father,  that  I  lave  her  the  love  of  my  dyin'  heart." 

He  was  utterly  exhausted,  and  the  priest  looked  in  some 
dismay  at  the  ghastly  countenance,  and  the  scarcely  breathing 


<4  CARROLL  VLONOQHUR. 

form  ;  but  the  poor  fellow  rallied  once  more,  and  aste/   vith 
painful  eagerness  : 

"  Will  you  promise  that  also,  father  ?  " 

*  Yes,  all  that  you  ask." 

44  Thank  God  ! "  he  had  freed  his  hands  from  the  coverlet, 
and  he  strove  to  clasp  them  in  his  gratitude,  b;  t  they  fell 
helplessly  on  the  bed. 

"  I  can  prepare  to  die  now,"  he  said,  "  there't  *  load  off  my 
mind." 

He  motioned  for  another  drink,  and  ther  signified  his  de- 
sire to  make  his  confession.  On  its  conclusion  the  doctor 
arrived,  and  instantly  pronounced  the  case  hopeless.  Death 
would  ensue  within  the  next  twelve  hours 

The  dying  man  caught  the  half-whispered  words,  and  ho 
smiled. 

"I  am  not  afraid  to  go  now,"  he  said,  "an'  somehow  I 
think  it's  best.  Sure  it  was  glorious  to  get  my  death  striking 
a  blow  for  old  Ireland." 

"  I  shall  return,"  the  priest  said  to  the  woman  and  her  male 
companion,  who  had  entered  the  room  with  the  doctor  ;  the 
latter  having  given  some  brief  directions  about  the  treatment 
of  the  wounded  man,  departed  with  the  clergyman. 

Groups  of  men  and  women  were  everywhere  ;  on  the  road, 
in  the  doorways,  and  everywhere  with  the  same  melancholy 
and  somewhat  defiant  expression  of  countenance.  Gloomy 
determination  looked  from  every  brow,  and  a  fierce  animosity 
gleamed  from  every  eye.  The  conversation  was  always  in  low 
tones,  but  it  was  accompanied  at  times  by  a  bodeful  shaking 
of  the  head,  and  a  threatening  gesture  of  the  hands  which 
evinced  how  deep  were  the  feelings  of  the  speaker.  All  bowed 
respectfully  to  the  priest  and  his  companion,  who,  as  the 
parish  doctor,  was  well  known,  and  ardently  liked  because 
of  his  sympathy  with  the  Irish  cause  and  his  kindness  to  the 
poor,  though  he  was  himself  a  Protestant,  and  descended  from 
an  aristocratic  family. 

"  This  is  bad  business,"  he  said  to  Father  O'Connor,  when 


FATHER  VCONNOR.  65 

the  two  had  gone  beyond  seeing  and  hearing  distance  of  the 
groups  they  had  passed.  The  priest  did  not  answer  ;  he  was 
absorbed  in  perplexing  thought  of  Morty  Carter.  The  little 
physician  appeared  not  to  mind  the  absence  of  a  reply  ;  fol- 
lowing the  bent  of  his  own  excited  thoughts  he  continued  : 

"  A  country  badly  governed  will  ever  be  a  thorn  in  the  side 
of  the  dominant  country,  and  there  will  be  agitations,  and  ris- 
ings, and  blood-spilling  till  England  either  wipes  us  entirely 
from  the  face  of  the  earth,  or  leaves  us  to  legislate  for  our- 
selves ;  but  she  has  trampled  upon  us  until  in  our  misery  we 
have  turned,  and  now  she  would  crush  us  out.  Yet,  with  all 
her  power  she  could  not  do  it ;  by  Heaven  !  she  could  not  do 
it,  if  there  was  not  treachery  among  ourselves." 

The  vehemence  of  the  last  words  startled  Father  O'Connor 
from  his  reverie. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Doctor  Day  ? "  he  asked  with  some 
lurprise. 

"  Why,  early  this  morning,  before  that  attack  on  the  barracks, 
I  was  summoned  to  attend  Sergeant  Hooper's  little  daugh- 
ter. The  child  was  very  sick,  and  the  father's  anxiety  about 
her  was  considerably  aggravated  by  the  fact  that  he  was  part 
of  a  command  ordered  to  Dhrommacohol  to  make  the  arrest 
of  some  party  on  information  furnished  by  one  Carter — Morty 
Carter,  an  Irishman,  I  believe,  who  pretends  to  be  one  of  the 
stanchest  of  the  Fenians" 

"  Carter,  did  you  say,  Morty  Carter  ?  "  eagerly  asked  the 
priest. 

"  Yes  ;  "  was  the  reply.  "  I  saw  the  fellow  once  ;  a  coarse, 
blustering,  corpulent  man." 

"  And  who  was  the  party  to  be  arrested  ?  M 

"  Some  escaped  Australian  convict,  I  believe.  I  did  not 
hear  the  name.  But,  father,  how  excited  you  are  !  does  my 
news  affect  you  ? " 

The  priest  was  violently  trembling,  and  the  perspiration 
stood  thickly  upon  his  face.  It  was  some  moments  before  b« 
could  speak,  and  then  his  voice  sounded  husky  and  strange. 


w  CARROLL  VDONOGHUB. 

"There  is  but  one  Australian  convict  that  might  be 
in  Dhrommacohol,  and  that  is  Carroll  O'Donoghue,  my 
brother,  I  might  say.  His  father  took  me,  a  foundling,  in  my 
babyhood,  caused  me  to  be  reared  in  his  own  happy  home 
side  by  side  with  his  children,  and  through  his  love  and  care 
I  am  what  I  am.  Carroll  O'Donoghue  was  arrested  before, 
and  transported  to  Australia.  He  may  have  escaped  ;  it  may 
be  he,  and  if  so,  and  that  his  capture  now  should  be  due  to 
Morty  Carter,  then  is  he  betrayed  by  one  who  for  my  lifetime 
has  been  the  trusted  and  intimate  friend  of  the  family." 

He  bowed  his  head  and  covered  his  face  with  his  hands. 

"Perhaps  not ;  perhaps  my  information  is  wrong,"  said  the 
little  doctor,  whose  tender  heart  could  ill  bear  the  sight  of 
luch  trouble  as  Father  O'Connor's  whole  attitude  expressed. 
"At  all  events,  you  can  go  immediately  to  Dhrommacohol 
and  ascertain  the  truth." 

The  priest  roused  himself  and  shook  his  head.  "  I  must 
bear  the  Viaticum  back  to  this  poor  dying  creature." 

He  started  on  with  hurried  pace,  the  little  physician  hardly 
able  to  keep  by  his  side,  till  their  paths  diverged. 

The  priest,  quickening  his  gait  almost  to  a  run,  struck  across 
the  fields,  and  on  to  a  by-lane  that  led  to  an  exceedingly 
humble  little  church,  and  adjoining  it  a  proportionately  hum- 
ble little  dwelling.  On  the  doorstep  of  the  latter  stood  a 
neatly-dressed  old  woman  ;  she  was  slightly  leaning  on  a 
stick,  as  if  she  suffered  from  some  infirmity,  and  her  face 
wore  the  look  of  one  who  had  maintained  a  long  and  anxious 
watch. 

At  first  sight  o»  the  straight,  athletic,  clerically-robed  form 
hurrying  up  the  l:ttle  borten,  she  turned  to  some  one  within, 
and  cried  joyously  :  "  He's  coming  at  last,  Jerry  ;  see  thai 
the  kettle  is  boiling,  so  that  he'll  have  a  fresh  cup  of  tea.  I'll 
be  bound  that  he's  had  neither  bite  nor  sup  since  he  left 
Dhrommacohol  this  morning,  and  here  it  is  well-nigh  evenin'.** 

To  her  disappointment,  instead  of  coming  to  the  house,  be 
tutored  the  church. 


FATHER  V CONNOR.  67 

"Always  the  way,"  she  muttered  ;  "either  fastin'  orprayin', 
or  round  among  the  poor,  or  hearin'  confessions.  It's  little 
he  thinks  of  himself,  may  God  bless  him  !  Sure  it's  on  my 
knees  night  an'  day,  prayin'  for  him,  /  ought  to  be  ;  if  it 
wasn't  for  him,  it's  a  home  in  the  workhouse  I'd  have  thia 
minit ;  an'  he  might  have  taken  many  another  for  his  house- 
keeper— many  a  strong  young  woman  that'd  be  able  to  do  hit 
work  ;  but  he  picked  me  out,  poor  an'  lame  as  I  am ;  may 
God  Almighty  bless  him  !  " 

She  turned  within  to  superintend  Jerry's  arrangement  of 
the  frugal  supper,  and  finally  bade  him  take  her  place  at  the 
door  to  cry  out  instantly  that  Father  O'Connor  should  emerge 
from  the  church,  in  order  that  she  might  have  the  tea  just 
ready  for  him. 

Jerry,  a  stout,  half-grown,  half-witted,  stuttering  lad,  an- 
other of  Father  O'Connor's  proteges,  adopted  by  the  priest 
because  of  his  forlorn  and  outcast  condition,  reluctantly  did 
as  he  was  told  ;  reluctantly,  because  he  had  just  missed  an 
opportunity  of  pilfering  some  of  the  cream  from  the  pitcher. 

"  H-h-h-he —  "  stuttered  Jerry.  The  housekeeper  hobbled 
as  fast  as  she  could  for  the  teapot,  and  in  her  hurry  over- 
turned the  steaming  contents  on  her  hand  as  well  as  into 
the  priest's  cup.  "  He  ain't  coming,"  stammered  out  Jerry 
at  last,  thrusting  his  head  in  to  see  what  was  the  cause  of 
Mrs.  Daly's  outcry  of  pain.  He  burst  into  one  of  his  idiotic 
laughs  as  he  saw  the  housekeeper  wring  her  scalded  hand, 
and  witnessed  her  anger  at  her  disappointment. 

"  What  did  you  spake  for,  thin,  whin  he  wasn't  comin*  ? " 
she  asked  angrily. 

"  Y-y-you  wouldn't  wait  t-t-to  hear  it  all,"  he  stuttered  ; 
"  h-h-he's  gone  down  the  boreen — an'  n-n-now  you're  fixed," 
as  he  saw  how  powerless  her  right  hand  was  to  grasp  her  stick, 
and  that  having  to  employ  her  left  hand  in  its  use,  she  would 
be  unable  to  inflict,  as  she  sometimes  did,  so  painful  a  blow 
upon  his  shoulders.  Delighted  Jerry  saw  in  the  accident 
many  an  opportunity  of  helping  himself  to  the  cream  and 


6g  CARROLL  VDONOGHUR. 

the  sugar  in  defiance  of  old  Mother  Daly's  blackthorn,  and 
he  continued  to  laugh  immoderately.  The  good  old  dame's 
indignation  was  very  violent ;  between  the  smarting  of  her 
hand,  which  had  been  somewhat  severely  scalded,  and  her 
disappointment  at  the  priest  not  coming,  her  anger  against 
Jerry  each  moment  increased. 

"  You  ungrateful  spalpeen  !  "  she  cried,  trying  to  hobble  to 
him ;  but  it  was  such  awkward  and  slow  work,  handling  the 
stick  with  her  left  hand,  that  the  lad  had  time  to  put  himself 
into  all  sorts  of  defiant  and  grotesque  postures  before  she 
reached  him,  and  then  to  dance  out  of  her  way  with  screams 
of  delight  She  shook  her  stick  at  him. 

"You'll  pay  for  this,  you  unmannerly  knave  !  Wait  till  his 
riverence  comes  back  ;  I'll  make  a  clane  breast  of  the  whole 
of  yer  doin's." 

"  He-he-he  "  laughed  Jerry,  pointing  to  Father  O'Connor'i 
retreating  form.  He  was  turning  out  of  the  boreen  into  the 
fields  he  had  *o  recently  crossed 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE    DYING    FENIAN. 

*  HURRY,  your  riverince  !  the  soldiers  have  surrounded  the 
house  where  poor  Kelly  is  dying,  and  there'll  be  bloody  work 
there  afore  long." 

The  speaker,  so  violently  excited  that  his  utterance  was 
hardly  distinct,  was  a  stout,  broad-chested  Irishman  of  the 
laboring  class.  He  carried  his  hat  in  his  hand,  and  his  red 
and  perspiring  face  and  dust-covered,  disarranged  garments 
attested  the  speed  with  which  he  had  come. 

Father  O'Connor  did  not  answer  him,  but  pressing  closer 
to  his  bosom  the  hand  which  was  already  partly  within  his 
surtout,  he  quickened  his  pace  till  even  the  swift  pedestrian, 
who,  out  of  respect,  had  fallen  a  little  behind,  could  scarcely 
keep  up  with  him.  The  report  was  not  exaggerated  ;  the 
soldiers  had  attempted  to  surround  the  house  where  the 
dying  man  lay,  but  they  were  met  by  such  determined  and 
desperate  resistance  on  the  part  of  the  people  that  they  were 
forced  to  withdraw  a  little  and  consider  how  best  to  renew 
their  attack.  Every  man,  woman  and  child  in  the  vicinity  had 
gathered  on  the  spot,  and  now  stood  forming  in  the  front  of 
the  house  a  solid  mass  of  human  beings, — the  men,  armed 
with  motley  weapons,  pikes  and  fowling  pieces  prevailing, 
and  some  of  the  women  bearing  large  stones. 

There  was  a  subdued  murmur  as  the  form  of  the  priest  came 
in  sight,  and  the  glowering  looks  of  anger  and  hate  which  shone 
so  fiercely  in  the  eyes  of  many  gave  place  to  a  calmer  expres- 
sion. On  he  came,  his  hand  still  pressing  closely  to  his  bosom 
tht  aacred  treasure  he  carried,  his  lips  slightly  moving  as  if  in 
prayer.  With  a  hasty  glance  at  the  wall  of  people  below 
(69) 


70  CARROLL  O'DONOGIIUE. 

him,  a  longer  and  more  searching  look  at  the  soldiers  drawn 
up  in  two  ranks  a  few  yards  distant,  he  prepared  to  enter  the 
house. 

The  mass  of  beings  opened,  wedging  themselves  on  each 
side,  so  that  a  free  ingress  was  made  for  him  to  the  front  en- 
trance, and  as  he  passed,  with  one  simultaneous  movement, 
every  one  knelt,  heads  were  bared,  hands  clasped  in  mute 
supplication,  and  forms  bowed  almost  to  the  ground,  as  the 
sacred  Host  passed,  borne  on  the  bosom  of  a  creature.  The 
soldiers  were  amazed  at  the  scene,  and  stood  surveying  it  with 
unconcealed  wonder;  but  their  captain  was  quick  to  perceive 
in  it  an  unexpected  advantage.  He  gave  the  order  to  charge 
after  the  priest,  and  in  a  moment  the  redcoats  were  in  the 
midst  of  the  kneeling  mass.  Up  with  one  accord  as  quickly 
as  they  had  fallen  prostrate  the  people,  now  furious,  fought 
with  savage  desperation.  They  flung  themselves  against  the 
soldiers,they  grappled  with  them  hand  to  hand,  and  so  closely 
were  the  Englishmen  hemmed  in  that,  save  in  a  few  instances, 
they  were  unable  to  use  their  fire-arms.  The  priest  had  passed 
within  the  house,  his  retrgat  covered  by  a  dozen  powerful 
Irishmen,  and  ingress  after  him  rendered  vain  by  the  barrier 
formed  of  their  brawny  bodies. 

The  dying  man  was  gasping  on  his  pallet;  his  large  black 
eyes,  now  strangely  luminous  with  the  moisture  of  death,were 
turned  in  the  direction  whence  the  noi-se  from  the  combatants 
without  proceeded.  The  woman  who  had  so  kindly  attended 
him  from  the  beginning  was  on  her  knees  by  his  side  sobbing 
bitterly,  and  her  husband  was  standing  beside  her  with  folded 
arms  and  a  face  expressive  of  his  violent  emotions.  A  little 
table  near  had  been  covered  with  a  white  cloth,  and  a  com- 
mon crucifix,  together  with  a  lighted  candle,  had  been  placed 
upon  it  in  preparation  for  the  priest's  return. 

"You  are  at  peace  with  all,"  whispered  the  clergyman  to 
the  dying  man,  "you  forgive  those  who  have  placed  you  as 
you  are  ?" 

"All,  father;  my  heart  holds  hatred  for  none." 


THE  DYING  FENIAN.  j! 

The  shouts  without  were  growing  louder  ;  the  noise  of  the 
affray  coming  closer,  as  if  the  combatants  were  on  the  very 
point  of  entering. 

"  You  ask  pardon  of  God  for  all  your  sins  ? "  again  whit- 
pered  the  priest. 

"  I  do,  father ;  an*  I  hope  for  His  mercy." 

Father  O'Connor  put  on  his  stole,  and  took  from  his  breast 
the  little  receptacle  which  contained  the  Blessed  Sacrament. 

"  JDomine  non  sum  dignus"  his  voice  rung  out  clear  and  loud 
as  he  held  the  Sacred  Host  for  a  moment  before  the  dying 
man's  gaze. 

"  Ireland  forever  !  "  shouted  a  voice  without,  high  above 
the  din  of  other  voices,  and  then,  simultaneously  with  the  re- 
port of  a  fire-arm,  sounded  a  scream  of  agony. 

The  dying  man  had  received  the  Sacred  Particle,  and  a 
smile  crossed  his  features  for  a  moment,  then  they  settled  into 
the  white  rigidity  of  death,  his  fingers  fell  from  the  crucifix 
the  priest  had  placed  between  them,  and  the  Fenian  was  dead. 
At  that  instant  the  soldiers  had  succeeded  in  effecting  an  en- 
trance, and  they  filed  into  the  room,  unrestrained  by  the  quiet 
and  awe  which  met  them. 

The  man  who  stood  beside  his  weeping  wife  turned  upon 
them  like  an  enraged  tiger. 

"  He  has  escaped  ye  !  ye  couldn't  wait  to  let  him  die  in 
peace,  but  thank  God  he's  gone  where  your  hellish  law  can't 
reach  him." 

Finding  their  prey  indeed  gone,  and  becoming  somewhat 
awe-stricken  by  the  still  white  presence  before  them,  their 
demeanor  became  more  subdued  ;  they  turned  to  leave  the 
house  and  to  join  their  companions  who  were  without,  guard- 
ing their  captives.  But  the  infuriated  people,  beaten  though 
they  were,  would  make  another  effort  to  rescue  their  com- 
rades ;  they  fell  upon  the  soldiers,  men  and  women  of  them, 
grappling,  striking,  tearing,  till  the  melee  threatened  to  be  • 
desperately  bloody  one. 

Father  O'Connor,  seeing  that  the  little  handful  of  the  Iriah 


y,  CARROLL  VDONOGHUZ. 

could  avail  nothing  against  the  superior  number  and  skill  of 
the  English,  flung  himself  into  the  midst  of  the  contestants. 

*  Listen  to  me  1 "  he  said,  regardless  of  the  blows  which 
rained  around  him,  and  making  his  voice  sound  piercingly 
clear  above  the  din  ;  "  desist,  my  people,  in  God's  name  ;  shed 
no  more  blood  this  day." 

They  were  accustomed  to  yield  obedience  to  that  voice, 
and  there  was  something  in  its  accents  now  more  forcible, 
more  commanding  than  it  had  been  ever  before  ;  there  was 
also  something  in  that  form,  standing  so  fearlessly  in  the 
midst  of  the  affray,  that  compelled  them  to  hearken  to  hii 
words.  The  fight  ceased,  and  the  soldiers,  many  of  them 
bearing  on  their  own  bloody  persons  painful  evidence  of  the 
prowess  of  the  Irish,  departed,  taking  with  them  as  prisoners 
those  who  had  been  foremost  in  the  struggle.  Some  of  the 
women  followed,  wailing  for  their  husbands,  or  fathers,  or 
brothers,  and  Father  O'Connor  had  enough  work  for  the  next 
three  hours  in  attending  to  the  injured — fortunately  none 
were  mortally  hurt — and  comforting  the  families  of  those  who 
had  been  arrested.  It  was  very  late  when  at  last  he  could 
turn  his  face  to  Dhrommacohol,  and  without  going  back  to 
his  own  home,  where  his  devoted  old  housekeeper  maintained 
a  constant  and  anxious  watch,  he  struck  into  the  nearest  road 
which  would  lead  him  to  Father  Meagher's. 

The  storm  that  had  so  drenched  Rick  of  the  Hills  was  in 
its  wildest  fury,  and  the  priest,  used  as  he  was  to  all  the  hard- 
ships of  severe  weather,  often  shivered  as  the  rain  and  the 
blast  seemed  to  pierce  him  through  ;  the  fatigue  of  the  day 
and  his  long  fast  were  somewhat  overcoming  him,  and  it  was 
with  a  thankful  heart  that  he  caught  the  first  glimmer  of  the 
light  which  he  knew  shone  in  Father  Meagher's  little  study. 
There  was  another  light  in  one  of  the  uppei  windows,  but  he 
did  not  dream  that  it  came  from  a  room  in  which  Nor> 
McCarthy  was  then  kneeling  before  her  crucifix  ;  she  had  ex- 
hausted her  tears,  and  now  she  could  not  even  pray  ;  she 
could  only  look  and  try  to  nerve  herself  to  courage  and  en« 


THE  DYING  FEN1AX.  jj 

durance  by  the  contemplation  of  the  image  upon  the  cross. 
Clare  had  thrown  herself  sobbing  upon  the  bed,  and  had 
fallen  at  last  into  a  troubled,  moaning  slumber. 

Father  Meagher,  absorbed  in  sad  and  anxious  thought,  hit 
face  buried  in  his  hands,  was  aroused  by  the  gentle  knock  at 
the  door ;  deeming  it  a  sick  call,  or  perhaps  Tighe  a  Vohr, 
who  he  knew  would  return  as  soon  as  possible  with  news  of 
the  prisoner,  he  hurriedly  obeyed  the  summons,  starting  when 
he  saw  Father  O'Connor. 

"  What,  Charlie,  my  boy  !  back  again  ?  what  is  the  matter  ? 
but  you  are  drenched  ! "  observing  the  dripping  garments  of 
the  young  priest. 

With  the  tenderness  of  a  mother,  the  old  clergyman  bustled 
about  to  find  dry  garments  for  his  visitor,  and  then  he  depart- 
ed to  the  kitchen,  intending  to  prepare  with  his  own  hand* 
some  warm  refreshment. 

The  sound  of  sobbing  startled  him  ;  he  held  the  little  lamp 
above  his  head  and  peered  into  the  corners.  It  was  Moira, 
almost  prone  to  the  floor,  and  so  doubled  up  as  to  hardly 
bear  semblance  to  a  human  form.  She  was  in  such  a  parox- 
ysm of  grief  that  she  neither  heard  nor  perceived  her  uncle. 
He  called  her  somewhat  sternly  ;  she  started,  and  rose  hastily, 
her  sobbing  ceased,  and  her  apron  brought  into  violent  requi- 
sition for  the  purpose  of  drying  her  eyes. 

"  I — can't — help  it,"  spoken  in  most  woe-begone  accents 
from  the  depths  of  her  apron  ;  "  Mr.  O'Donoghue  will  be 
hung,  and  there  will  be  dreadful  times — o-o-oh,"  prolonged 
almost  into  a  wail. 

Father  Meagher  put  the  lamp  down  on  the  kitchen  table, 
and  stood  looking  at  his  niece  with  a  mingled  expression  of 
displeasure  and  wonder.  She,  surprised  at  his  silence, 
glanced  up  furtively. 

"  Look  at  me,"  he  resumed. 

The  sternness  of  his  tone  commanded  obedience,  and  she 
dropped  her  apron  and  stood  before  him,  with  a  most  ludi* 
wously  abashed  air. 


14  CARROLL  VDONOGHU& 

"  You  are  trying  to  deceive  me,  Moira  Moynahan;  it's  nol 
for  Mr.  O'Donoghue's  fate  you  are  crying  ;  it  is  for  Tighe  * 
Vohr." 

Moira  blushed  violently,  hung  her  head  still  lower,  and 
rolled  her  apron  over  her  thumbs. 

" I  have  but  one  word  to  say  about  that,  Moira,  and  that  it 
that  I  absolutely  forbid  you  to  receive  any  attentions  from 
him." 

0  Oh,  uncle  !  hasn't  he  proved  himself  noble,  and  good, 
and  true — didn't  he  manage  Mr.  O'Donoghue's  escape  ?  and 
he  loves  me ; "  the  last  was  spoken  with  a  pretty,  faltering, 
deprecating  air. 

"  Indeed  !  has  he  told  you  so  ? " 

44  Yes,  uncle  ;  to-night  he  told  me  how  long  he'd  been  lov 
ing  me,  and  I  couldn't  help  telling  him  how  long  I'd  been  lov- 
ing him." 

**  And  how  long,  pray,  may  that  be  ?  "  asked  the  half-amused 
and  yet  indignant  clergyman.  Moira  answered  without  ven- 
turing to  look  at  him  : 

"  Since  the  time  he  saved  me  from  Squire  Turner's  dog." 

"  And  that  was  shortly  after  you  came  to  live  with  me — 
shortly  after  I  promised  your  poor  mother  on  her  deathbed  to 
be  a  true  father  to  you.  And  how  old  were  you  then  ?  " 

"  Turned  of  thirteen  ; "  spoken  in  a  very  low  voice. 

"And  what  is  your  age  now?"  there  was  a  touch  of  sar- 
casm in  the  tone  that  made  Moira  feel  very  uncomfortable. 

"  I  shall  be  seventeen  the  fifth  day  of  next  June,"  she  an- 
•wered,  in  a  bolder  voice,  as  if  she  were  regaining  confidence. 

"  Ah  ! "  the  priest  drew  a  long  breath,  "  so  in  just  eleven 
months  and  twenty-seven  days  you  will  be  seventeen.  Quite 
*  mature  age.  And  what,  may  I  ask,  were  the  plans  of  thii 
ardent  lover  of  yours  ?  " 

Her  faltering,  deprecating  air  was  again  assumed. 

"  If  Mr.  O'Donoghue  could  be  got  away  safely  to  America, 
Tighe  intended  to  ask  your  consent  to  our  marriage,  and—* 


THE  DYLNG  FENIAN.  75 

The  priest  would  listen  to  no  more  ;  sternness  and  decis- 
ion took  the  place  of  whatever  amusement  he  might  have 
felt. 

"  Moira  Moynahan,  remember  that  I  command  you  to  dis- 
countenance every  attention  of  Tighe  a  Vohr.  He  has  proved 
himself  noble  and  devoted  in  the  matter  of  his  master's  in- 
terests, but  he  is  not  the  husband  for  you.  His  drinking 
habits  alone  would  make  you  miserable " 

"  But,  uncle,"  interrupted  the  girl  eagerly,  "  he  has  been 
keeping  sober  all  the  while  he  was  away,  and  he  promises  to 
continue  so." 

"  Don't  talk  to  me  like  that,"  answered  the  priest,  peremp- 
torily. "  How  many  times  within  the  past  three  years  has  he 
taken  the  pledge  from  me  and  broken  it  ?  No,  I  repeat  that 
you  are  to  discountenance  his  attentions  under  pain  of  my 
displeasure." 

Father  O'Connor,  who  had  donned  dry  garments,  and  was 
anxious  to  confer  with  Father  Meagher,  became  a  little  weary 
of  waiting  ;  he  called  from  the  passage-way  to  the  old  clergy- 
man. The  call  startled  the  latter  into  remembering  the  errand 
upon  which  he  had  sought  the  kitchen,  and  from  which  he 
had  been  diverted  by  the  grief  of  his  niece.  He  looked  at 
the  extinguished  fire,  then  at  the  open  cupboard  filled  with 
clean,  but  empty  dishes,  and  lastly  at  Moira,  who  from  being 
arch  and  pretty  had  become  pouting  and  sullen.  She  saw 
his  look  and  divined  its  meaning,  having  recognized  the  voice 
that  sounded  from  the  passage,  but  she  was  too  full  of  her 
own  wilful  pettishness  to  pretend  to  understand  it.  The 
tender-hearted  old  priest,  already  repenting  that  he  had 
spoken  so  harshly  to  her,  orphan  that  she  was,  and  after  all 
not  much  more  than  a  child,  attempted  to  make  amends  by 
bidding  her  kindly  to  bed.  Then  he  answered  Father  O'Con- 
nor, playiully  commending  him  to  further  patience,  and  he 
immediately  began  to  bustle  about  preparations  for  making 
tea.  Moira  watched  him,  enjoying  with  unkind  triumph  all  the 
blunders  his  awkwardness  and  inexperience  caused  him  to 


r6  CARROLL  VDONOQHUX. 

make.  In  vain  he  tried  to  kindle  the  fire  ;  three  times  th« 
blaze  ascended  the  chimney,  but  three  times  it  died  out  in 
utter  blackness  ;  his  fingers  were  burned,  his  face  covered 
with  perspiration,  and  all  hope  of  any  success  fast  dying 
within  him.  The  third  and  last  time  when  the  sportive  flame 
went  out  as  if  in  very  contempt  of  the  unskilled  hands  which 
had  kindled  it,  the  patient  old  clergyman  gave  a  long,  plain- 
tive sigh,  and  turned  and  looked  at  Moira  with  so  woe-begone 
an  expression  that  the  girl  could  control  her  mirth  no  longer ; 
she  laughed  outright ;  but  then,  also,  she  had  been  touched 
by  his  patience,  and  by  kindly,  grateful  thoughts  of  him  which 
struggled  with  her  feelings  of  disappointment  and  anger. 

"  Go,"  she  said,  when  her  laughter  had  subsided,  "  go  to 
Father  O'Connor,  and  I  will  attend  to  this." 

The  clergyman  was  immensely  relieved  ;  his  long-drawn 
breath  attested  it,  his  beaming  smile  on  Moira,  and  his  meek, 
gentle  "  Thank  you  "  bore  witness  to  it. 

Father  O'Connor  listened  sadly  to  the  account  of  Carroll 
O'Donoghue's  recapture  ;  then  he  communicated  the  infor- 
mation which  he  had  received  from  Di.  Day  relative  to  Morty 
Carter.  It  gave  Father  Meagher  a  painful  shock  ;  compelled 
as  he  was  to  believe  that  Carter  was  a  villain,  he  was  unpre- 
pared to  hear  that  he  had  gone  to  the  infamous  length  of  be- 
traying his  own  ward. 

"  How  much  does  Carroll  know  of  his  treachery  ?  "  asked 
the  young  priest. 

"  Absolutely  nothing,"  was  the  answer.  "  The  first  intima- 
tion of  it  that  even  Tighe  a  Vohr  had  was  from  his  mother, 
who  had  but  just  learned  of  Carter's  cruel  conduct  to  Clare  and 
Nora.  It  staggered  the  poor  faithful  fellow,  his  mother  says, 
but  he  must  have  repeated  nothing  of  it  to  Carroll,  for  the 
lad  did  not  appear  to  know  it  when  he  was  with  us  ;  he 
•eemed  to  think  that  Nora's  and  Clare's  presence  in  my  house 
was  due  to  the  fact  that  we  all  wanted  to  be  together  when 
he  came,  and  I  confess  I  was  loth  to  undeceive  him.  He 
had  so  much  to  think  about,  and  so  much  to  fear,  that  I  could 


TSX  D11NQ  rSKAX.  ft 

not  burden  him  with  this  fellow's  villainy  :  besides  I  thought 
there  would  be  time  enough  to  tell  him." 

"  Yes  ;  but  he  trusts  this  Carter,  trusts  him,  and  even  loves 
him  ;  at  least  he  did  before  his  transportation — trusted  him 
implicitly,  and  had  unbounded  affection  for  him." 

"  I  know  it,"  responded  Father  Meagher;  "but  Tighe  a  Vohr 
is  aware  now  of  Carter's  true  character,  and  the  faithful  fel- 
low will  leave  no  stone  unturned  to  foil  his  villainy  ;  he  will 
not  fail  to  put  his  young  master  on  his  guard." 

Moira  entered  with  the  tea,  steaming  and  neatly  arranged 
as  her  deft  little  hands  knew  well  how  to  arrange  it.  Her 
uncle  gave  her  a  look  of  beaming  gratitude,  and  stately  Father 
O'Connor  noticed  her  with  a  kindly  salute  ;  but  it  was  hcrrefc 
to  play  the  deeply-injured  maiden,  and  with  a  sad  face  and 
frequent  melancholy  sighs,  she  responded  to  the  greeting  of 
the  young  priest,  placed  the  tray  before  him,  and  slowly  and 
pensively  left  the  room.  She  had  fancied  that  Father  Charlie, 
as  she  was  wont  to  call  the  young  clergyman,  would  notice 
her  sad  manner,  inquire  the  cause  of  her  uncle,  and  perhaps 
induce  the  latter  to  relent  a  little  from  his  stern,  and  as  she 
deemed  it,  cruel  determination  ;  but  both  priests  were  too 
much  absorbed  in  weightier  matters,  the  one  either  to  inquirt, 
or  the  other  to  volunteer  information  pertaining  to  Moira. 


CHAPTER  X 

SHAUN. 

CARROLL  O'DONOGHUE,  guarded  by  a  mounted  force,  waa 
hurried  on  to  prison,  and  the  news  of  his  arrest  telegraphed 
to  Dublin  Castle  ;  Tighe  a  Vohr  faithfully  followed  him  ; 
badgered  by  the  soldiers,  threatened  by  the  police,  and  almost 
ridden  down  by  the  mounted  guards,  he  still  kept  in  the  wake 
of  his  master — assuming  the  part  of  a  good-natured  simpleton, 
but  keeping  every  sense  on  the  alert  for  the  benefit  of  the 
prisoner.  Thus  far  his  wit  and  vigilance  were  of  little  avail ; 
the  prison  was  reached  and  its  heavy  doors  opened  and  closed 
on  Carroll,  and  Tighe  was  left  without,  with,  as  he  himself 
expressed  it,  "a  heavy  heart  in  his  buzzum."  He  stood 
scratching  his  head  and  looking  up  at  the  grim  stone  walls 
with  an  expression  assumed  for  the  occasion  :  one  of  ludicrous 
amazement  and  fear.  Suddenly  there  was  the  bound  of  a  dog 
round  the  corner  of  the  jail,  a  succession  of  quick,  sharp, 
yelping  barks,  and  a  lean,  scraggy,  tawny  animal  had  jumped 
on  Tighe's  breast,  and  was  making  frantic  efforts  to  pass  his 
tongue  over  the  whole  of  Tighe's  face  at  once. 

"  May  I  never  be  shot  in  a  juel,  but  it's  Shaun ! " 
Tighe's  arms  were  round  the  dog,  squeezing  him  in  the  most 
human-like  of  embraces,  and  Tighe  himself  was  crying  like 
a  child. 

"Shaun,  me  beautiful  Shaun!  Sure  it  bates  all  iver  I 
heerd.  How  did  you  make  me  out  at  all,  at  all  ?  an'  it's  good 
luck  sent  you.  You  cheered  me  afore  when  I  was  down- 
hearted, an'  you've  kem  again  to  do  the  same  thing." 

The  boisterousness  of  the  dog,  and  Tighe's  own  tearfully- 
delivered  apostrophes,  attracted  the  attention  of  the  soldiem 


BHA  UN.  7, 

who  were  lounging  about,  and  they  drew  near  to  witness  the 
scene,  many  a  guffaw  sounding  as  they  beheld  Tighe's  ludri- 
crously  extravagant  welcome  of  the  animal.  But  in  a  mo- 
ment an  officer  in  full  uniform  appeared  among  them. 

"  Here  fellow,"  he  said  roughly,  "  what  are  you  doing  with 
that  dog  ?  He  belongs  to  me." 

Tighe  came  forward  carrying  his  burden.  "  If  you  plaze, 
yer  honor,  would  you  mind  tellin'  me  how  you  kem  by  him  ? 
I  was  his  former  masther  ;  sure  he'll  tell  to  that  by  the  thricks 
I'll  put  him  through.  Down,  Shaun,  an'  show  how  a  gintle- 
man  coorts  his  lady  love." 

The  dog  jumped  from  Tighe's  arms,  looked  round  at  the 
laughing  soldiers  for  a  moment,  as  if  making  his  selection, 
then  with  a  sudden  spring  he  bounded  to  the  neck  of  an  un- 
suspecting fellow  near,  and  passing  his  tongue  rapidly  over 
his  face,  sprung  back  to  Tighe's  arms. 

Every  one  laughed  loudly  and  applauded,  even  the  officer 
who  had  claimed  the  dog. 

"  Now,  Shaun,  pick  out  the  biggest  rogue  in  the  company — 
mind  you,  I  said  rogue." 

Shaun  was  on  his  feet  again,  going  to  everyone  in  turn,  and 
looking  into  the  face  of  each  with  a  most  comical  gravity  ; 
finally  he  stopped  before  Tighe  himself,  and  announced  his 
selection  by  a  loud  bark. 

Every  one  laughed  loudly  again,  this  time  with  louder  and 
more  prolonged  mirth.  Tighe  affected  to  be  displeased,  and 
swore  that  the  dog's  judgment  was  wrong,  much  to  the  in- 
creased amusement  of  the  spectators,  now  swelled  to  a  large 
crowd. 

"  He  has  another  thrick  yet,  gintlemen.  Now,  Shaun  !  " 
Shaun  immediately  put  himself  into  his  attitude  of  attention, 
which  was  sitting  upon  his  hind  legs,  and  letting  his  fore 
paws  drop,  something  in  the  style  of  a  mincing  miss  of  the 
present  day. 

"  Now,  Shaun  ;  do  you  mind  what  I  say  ?  "  Shaun  nodded 
his  head  as  much  as  to  say  that  he  understood  his  master. 


jo  CARROLL  VDONOGHUR. 

"  Well,  go  around  now,  and  pick  out  the  gintleman  of  th« 
company — the  true  gintleman,  that  wouldn't  do  a  mane  act  for 
love  nor  money." 

The  dog  arose  and  began  to  make  his  circuit ;  but  he  did 
it  slowly,  as  if  it  was  a  very  grave  task,  squatting  before  each 
person,  and  looking  into  each  one's  face  with  an  air  that  sent 
everybody  into  screams  of  laughter.  At  length  he  jumped 
upon  the  officer  himself,  announcing  as  before  his  selection  by 
a  bark. 

44  Upon  my  honor,  but  your  dog  is  marvelously  trained," 
said  that  gentleman,  as  soon  as  he  had  recovered  from  his  sur- 
prise ;  and  Shaun  was  by  Tighe's  side  again,  wagging  his  tail, 
and  looking  up  into  Tighe's  face  with  an  expression  that 
seemed  to  say  : 

"Haven't  I  done  well?" 

44 1  have  no  wish  to  deprive  you  unfairly  of  the  dog,"  con- 
tinued the  officer.  "  He  was  found  prowling  around  here  a 
day  or  two  ago,  and  he  showed  such  pluck  in  defending  him- 
self against  a  cur  twice  his  size  that  I  took  quite  a  fancy  to 
him." 

"  Oh,  that's  Shaun  all  over,"  interrupted  Tighe.  The  offi- 
cer, not  minding  the  interruption,  continued  :  "  There  was  no 
owner  for  him,  so  I  became  his  master,  and  now,  if  you  will 
name  your  price,  I  will  buy  him." 

"  Is  it  sell  Shaun  !  "  said  Tighe.  "  Oh,  yer  honor,  don't  ax 
to  part  us  !  I'll  bring  him  ivery  day  to  see  yer  honor,  an'  I'll 
put  him  through  his  thricks  for  your  divarsion,  but  lave  us 
together." 

There  was  so  much  pathos  mingled  with  the  comical 
entreaty  that  the  Englishman,  somewhat  inclined  to  good 
nature,  and  rather  fancying  Tighe  for  his  simplicity,  said 
tastily  : 

**  Well,  keep  him,  my  good  fellow." 

44  Oh,  but  Shaun  was  right  when  he  pinted  you  out  as  the 
thrue  gintleman,"  burst  out  Tighe  ;  "  sure  I'll  never  forget  it 
for  you,  an'  ShaunTl  mind  it  too.  An'  now,  will  yer  honor 


BHAUN.  8l 

give  me  lave  to  come  an'  see  you  at  the  barracks  ?  I've  a  fancy 
intirely  for  the  redcoats,  but  not  one  of  them'll  take  kindly 
to  me.  I've  spent  this  blessed  mornin'  tryin'  to  get  a  glimpse 
of  the  jail  yard  an'  to  offer  my  sarvices  to  some  of  the  sol- 
diers, but  it  wasn't  one  bit  of  use.  But  mebbe  I'd  be  able 
to  sarve  yer  honor  sometime." 

The  Englishman  was  very  much  amused  ;  his  fancy  was 
picturing  how  his  friends  at  home  would  regard  this  specimen 
of  an  Irish  valet,  should  he  decide  to  employ  Tighe  in  that 
capacity.  The  drollery  of  the  thing,  as  well  as  the  fact  that 
his  own  valet  was  anxious  to  return  to  England,  incited  him 
to  proffer  the  situation  to  Tighe.  He  passed  his  hand  over 
his  face,  as  if  in  perplexed  thought,  and  looked  again  at 
Tighe  a  Vohr.  Certainly,  a  more  grotesque  or  laughable 
figure  never  before  met  his  view ;  the  long,  flapping  coat 
loosely  confined  at  the  waist  by  several  twists  of  straw,  the 
dingy  red  waistcoat  turned  back  to  show  the  bosom  of  a  home- 
spun shirt,  the  bright,  blue  handkerchief  tied  in  loose  sailor 
fashion  around  his  neck,  and  the  whole  surmounted  by  a  hat 
pressed  from  hard  usage  into  an  odd  shape,  and  looped  at  the 
side  by  a  dingy  bow  that  made  it  all  strangely  ridiculous,  com- 
pleted a  figure  that  could  provoke  nothing  but  merriment. 

The  officer  laughed  loudly  ;  the  conceit  of  engaging  Tighe 
and  retaining  him  to  show  to  his  friends  at  home  gained  upon 
him,  and  as  he  pictured  the  surprise  and  amazement  of  his 
family — his  elegant  brothers,  and  dainty,  fastidious  sisters- 
he  was  almost  convulsed  with  mirth. 

44  Come  this  afternoon  to  the  barracks,  and  inquire  for  Cap- 
tain Crawford  ;  that  will  be  passport  sufficient  for  the 
present,"  he  said,  as  soon  as  his  laughter  had  subsided  ;  and 
turning  on  his  heel,  he  walked  rapidly  down  the  street,  leaving 
Tighe  to  be  besieged  by  roguish  inquiries,  and  bantered  by 
numerous  jests.  But  Tighe  a  Vohr  was  a  match  for  all ;  he 
assumed  the  omadhaun,  and  what  with  his  own  apparent  sim- 
plicity, and  the  tricks  of  Shaun,  he  succeeded  in  convincing 
the  soldiers  about  him  that  he  was  really  a  poor  innocent,  who 
was  capable  alone  of  making  fun. 


82  CARROLL  VDONOGHUB, 

The  roll-call  sounded,  and  the  crowd  which  surrounded 
Tighe  dispersed.  Whistling  to  Shaun,  who  had  ventured 
on  a  little  expedition  of  his  own  down  the  street,  Tighe  also 
departed  in  search  of  forage  for  himself  and  his  dog.  It  was 
•till  three  good  hours  until  the  time  assigned  for  his  visit  to 
Captain  Crawford,  and  he  bent  his  way  to  the  outskirts  of  the 
town.  Well  knowing  that  what  hospitality  might  be  denied 
to  himself  the  tricks  of  Shaun  would  be  sure  to  win,  he  had 
little  hesitation  in  applying  for  a  meal  at  any  of  the  houses  of 
the  gentry  that  he  passed  ;  he  was  confident,  also,  of  the  in- 
fluence of  his  own  roguish  flattery  upon  the  servants  ;  and  he 
was  not  mistaken.  At  the  very  first  house  to  which  he  ap- 
plied the  best  in  the  servants'  larder  was  placed  before  him, 
and,  as  Tighe  expressed  it,  "  a  male  fit  for  a  prince  was  laid 
afore  Shaun."  Both  did  full  justice  to  the  viands,  and  both 
expressed  their  thanks,  Tighe  by  one  of  his  peculiar  speeches, 
and  Shaun  by  antics  that  convulsed  everybody  with  laughter. 
Out  on  the  road  again,  and  Tighe  penetrated  still  deeper  into 
the  rural  surroundings  ;  choosing  a  lane  which  seemed  little 
frequented,  and  on  which  no  house  bordered  for  some  dis- 
tance, he  sat  down  on  a  bowlder  and  whistled  to  Shaun,  who 
had  plunged  with  frantic  delight  into  the  green  depths  beyond. 
The  dog  immediately  bounded  to  his  master's  side. 

"  Faith,  Shaun,  it's  a  supernatural  animile  you  are  intirely  ! 
how  did  you  know  enough  to  make  me  out  in  the  nick  of  time 
as  you  did  ?  sure  if  it  wasn't  for  you  I'd  never  be  able  to  get 
a  sight  of  the  masther,  at  all,  at  all ;  but  now,  begorra,  the  way 
looks  aisy,  only  we'll  have  to  be  careful." 

Shaun  looked  very  earnestly  into  his  master's  face,  as  if  to 
corroborate  the  assertion. 

"I'm  bothered  about  one  thing,"  pursued  Tighe,  talking 
with  all  gravity  to  the  dog,  "  an'  that's  Morty  Carther.  I 
didn't  tell  tke  masther  what  me  mother  tould  me  about  him, 
bekaise  it  would  unman  him  complately ;  but  while  I  was 
followin*  him  to  prison  I  heerd  a  couple  of  soldiers  talkin' 
about  this  same  Carther,  an'  it  opened  me  eyes.  He's  a 


RHAWSf.  83 

thraithor  an'  a  villain,  Shaun,  but,  by  the  powers,  we'll  cir- 
cumvint  him  yet."  Tighe  brought  his  fist  down  to  his  knee 
by  way  of  emphasis  to  his  words,  and  Shaun  barked,  not  to  b« 
behind  his  master  in  force  and  earnestness.  "  We'll  be  wary, 
Shaun,  an'  we'll  watch  this  same  Carther,"  resumed  Tighe ; 
then,  having  spent  some  time  in  silent  thought,  he  judged  by 
the  sun  that  it  was  time  for  his  promised  visit,  and  returned 
briskly  to  the  town. 

"  Captain  Crawford  is  not  in  now,  and  he  will  not  be  in  for 
an  hour,"  was  the  response  to  Tighe's  inquiry  at  the  barrack 
gate. 

"  He  tould  me  to  come  at  this  perticler  time,"  said  Tighe, 
humbly,  "  an'  I'd  like  to  show  him  I  was  punctool ;  mebbe 
yer  honor'd  let  me  wait  for  him." 

"  Oh,  you  are  the  fellow  with  the  dog,"  said  the  man  on 
guard,  catching  sight  of  Shaun,  who  had  remained  behind  to 
gratify  his  canine  curiosity.  "  I  have  heard  nothing  since 
the  morning  but  the  wonderful  tricks  of  that  ugly  animal  of 
yours  ;  yes,  you  can  go  in  there  and  wait,"  pointing  to  the 
open  door  of  a  long,  low  room  against  the  sides  of  which  sun- 
dry benches  were  arranged  ;  and  turning  away  to  resume  his 
sentry  walk,  he  muttered  : 

"  What  with  pretty  women  that  floor  you  with  a  look  if  you 
dare  to  wink  at  them,  and  cunning  Irishmen  that  get  the  best 
of  you  at  every  turn,  and  wonderful  dogs  that  puzzle  you  with 
their  tricks,  this  same  Ireland  is  a  queer  place,  and  I  wish  I 
was  out  of  it." 

Tighe  quietly  seated  himself  on  one  of  the  benches,  and 
Shaun  went  on  an  inquiring  journey  around  the  room.  A 
stout,  burly  soldier  occupied  another  of  the  benches,  a  little  re- 
moved from  Tighe  ;  he  was  engaged  in  writing,  a  sheet  of  paper 
half  filled  lying  on  a  large  book  on  his  crossed  knees,  and  a 
huge  inkhorn  by  his  side.  It  was  evidently  a  difficult  taskf 
for  the  pen  was  often  idly  poised  between  his  fingers,  and  his 
face  wore  the  puzzled,  blank  expression  of  one  who  did  not 
even  comprehend  his  task. 


^  CARROLL  VDONOGBUE. 

m  Hang  it !  H  he  said  at  last,  forgetting,  in  his  perplexity, 
that  he  had  a  listener  ;  "  I  wish  the  Widow  Moore  was  at  th« 
bottom  of  the  sea  before  I  came  across  her." 

Tighe  a  Vohr,  keenly  on  the  alert,  pricked  up  his  ears  ;  a 
bright  idea  shot  suddenly  into  his  mind  ;  rising  slowly  from 
his  seat,  he  ambled  up  to  the  scribe. 

*  I  beg  pardon,  yer  honor,  but  I  heerd  you  mintion  a  name 
that's  dear  to  meself — an'  you  mintioned  it  in  a  way  that  went 
to  my  heart  Plaze,  sir,  say  that  you  didn't  mane  what  you 
said." 

The  Englishman  looked  up  at  the  intruder  in  blank  astonish- 
ment ;  then  his  first  impulse  was  to  laugh  at  the  comical  fig- 
ure before  him,  his  next  to  kick  Tighe  for  his  impudence. 

44  Who  are  you,  fellow  ?  "  he  asked,  angrily,  "  and  what  do 
you  know  of  the  lady  I  mentioned  ?  " 

u  I  am  only  poor  Tighe  a  Vohr,"  was  the  meek  reply,  "  but 
I  know  a  good  deal  of  the  Widdy  Moore  ;  she's  the  talk  of  the 
county  for  her  beauty  and  goodness,  and  she  has  scores  of 
lovers  all  cracking  each  other's  heads  about  her." 

44  The  devil  she  has  !  "  interrupted  the  soldier  fiercely.  His 
exclamation  and  look  gave  sharp-witted  Tighe  another  impor- 
tant clew. 

44  She  has  that,  an*  more  by  the  same  token  it's  a  snug  little 
fortune  she'll  bring  to  the  man  that  gets  her.  Oh,  but  it's 
lashins  of  love  letthers  she  recaves  every  day  of  her  life." 

The  soldier's  eyes  instantly  fell,  as  Tighe  expected  they 
would  do,  on  his  own  half-written  page.  Tighe  was  exultant 
— he  was  sure  now,  of  all  that  he  had  only  guessed  before. 

44  Sure  it's  many  a  one  /  had  the  opportunity  of  seein'  an' 
carryin'  to  her,  an*  sometimes  the  lovers'd  thrust  me  so  far  as  to 
ax  me  to  compose  the  letthers  for  them." 

44  You  compose  a  letter !  "  ejaculated  the  soldier,  his  eyes 
almost  starting  from  their  sockets  with  amazement. 

"  Plaze,  yer  honor,  it's  in  Irish  I'd  do  it — I  have  the  power 
of  composin'  nately  in  Irish — an'  then  I'd  read  it  to  them,  an' 
they'd  write  it  down  in  their  own  language.  You 


BHAUN.  85 

drawing   nearer    to   'the   still   amazed  soldier — *'  the  Widdy 

Moore  is  an  Irish  woman  all  out,  an'  the  Irish  women  are 
very  quare ;  it  won't  do  at  all  to  trate  them  as  ye  would, 
beggin'  yer  honor's  pardon,  yer  own  countrywomen  ;  you 
have  to  approach  them  as  you  would  a  sly  mare,  an'  then 
you've  to  be  careful,  for  the  divil  a  hap'orth  they  mind  givin* 
you  the  slip,  and  cantherin'  off  jist  when  you're  surest  of 
them.  Now  there  was  Sargeant — it  wouldn't  be  honorable 
to  mintion  his  name — he  used  to  write  the  natest  letthers  to 
her  at  all  ;  such  beautiful  English,  you'd  think  it  was  honey 
flowin'  from  the  lips,  jist  to  pronounce  the  words  ;  not  one  bit 
of  use  was  it.  Didn't  the  girrel  that  used  to  attind  her  at  that 
time  tell  me  how  she'd  throw  the  letthers  down,  an'  say  there 
was  no  divarsion  in  them,  an'  that  they  tired  her  to  read  them  ! 
Well,  I  saw  how  down-hearted  the  poor  fellow  was  gettin',  an' 
I  axed  his  lave  to  let  me  compose  him  one.  He  did — arrah 
it  was  not  long  till  he  got  an  encouragin'  answer,  an'  only  his 
father  tuk  him  home  on  sick  lave,  I  think  it  would  have  been 
a  match." 

"  Umph  !  "  ejaculated  the  soldier,  glancing  ruefully  at  his 
own  composition. 

"  It's  sich  a  delicate  matther,"  pursued  Tighe,  "  that  you 
can't  be  too  careful." 

"  Upon  my  honor,  but  you  seem  to  know  a  good  deal  about 
it,"  said  the  soldier. 

"  I  do,  be  rayson  of  the  matches  I've  helped  to  make  all 
over  the  counthry.  But  I'm  thinkin*  it's  poor  success  you'll 
have  wid  the  widdy  anyway." 

"  Why  ? "  and  the  questioner  straightened  himself. 

"  You're  too  slow,  an'  you're  too  cautious  ;  you  haven't  the 
spunk  that  an  Irish  woman  likes.  I'll  ingage,  now,  that  it's 
some  milk-an'-wathery  stuff  you  have  written  there,  instead  of 
the  dashin'  things  that  a  woman  wants.  Oh,  I  wish  yer  honor 
luck  wid  your  coortin',  but  I'm  afeered  you'll  not  have  it ; "  and 
Tighe  turned  away  as  if  he  were  too  disgusted  to  say  more. 

"  Stay,  my  good  fellow,"  said  the  thoroughly  nonplussed 
•oldier  :  Tighe  with  apparent  reluctance  turned  back. 


W  CARROLL  VDONOQHUB. 

"  !  don't  know  what  to  make  of  you,"  the  soldier  continued  ; 
"yea  certainly  have  divined  my  feelings  toward  this  charm- 
ing  Mistress  Moore, — I  can  think  of  little  else  since  I  met  hei 
— and  perhaps,  odd  as  it  all  seems,  you  may  be  right  about 
the  letters.  Here  is  some  paper,"  slipping  a  sheet  from  be- 
neath his  own  half-written  page,  "compose  one  of  your  letters 
for  me." 

He  vacated  his  seat  that  Tighe  might  take  it. 

"  Aisy  a  moment,"  said  Tighe,  who  wanted  time  to  remem- 
ber fully  a  letter  he  had  heard  read  frequently  in  Mrs.  Leary's 
public  house,  and  cited  as  a  model  of  elegant  style  for  love 
letters  :  "  I  must  consult  Shaun." 

To  the  soldier's  new  astonishment,  Tighe  whistled  to  the 
dog,  who,  having  completed  his  leisurely  survey  of  the  room, 
had  settled  himself  on  one  of  the  benches  for  a  nap.  Shaun 
as  usual  came  bounding  to  his  master's  side. 

"  Now,  Shaun  !  "  Tighe  held  up  his  finger  warningly,  and  the 
dog  immediately  assumed  its  comical  attitude  of  resting  on  its 
hind  legs  and  letting  its  fore  paws  drop  forward.  "  We're 
asked  to  compose  a  letther,"  pursued  Tighe,  "  an'  we  must 
think  about  it — do  you  mind  what  I'm  sayin'  now  ?  " 

The  dog  nodded  his  head  as  he  had  been  trained  to  do  at  that 
special  interrogation,  and  an  oath,  expressive  of  his  wonder, 
escaped  the  Englishman.  Tighe  began  to  walk  the  room  very 
slowly,  and  Shaun  walked  beside  him,  every  little  while  look- 
ing into  his  master's  face,  as  if  to  say  that  he  had  an  idea. 

"  The  devil !  such  a  country  as  this,  where  the  very  dogs 
are  asked  to  compose  the  letters,"  said  the  Englishman,  too 
mystified  to  laugh  even  at  the  absurdity  of  the  affair. 

**  It's  all  right  now,"  said  Tighe,  returning,  and  taking  pos- 
session of  the  seat  vacated  for  him.  "  But  I'll  have  to  hear 
Shaun  first" 

He  bent  and  gave  a  signal  to  the  dog,  who  had  paused 
when  his  master  seated  himself,  and  now  stood  looking  eagerly 
into  his  face.  Immediately  the  animal  began  a  succession  of 
short,  sharp  barks,  which  Tighe  variously  interpreted  as : 


"  T*  be  shure — jist  what  I  thought — the  very  thing — itH 
do  nicely." 

The  Englishman's  stare  of  horrified  astonishment  at  the 
whole  grotesque  performance  was  so  ludicrous  that  Tighe, 
intuitively  feeling  such  to  be  the  case,  would  not  trust  him- 
self to  look,  but  bidding  Shaun  cease,  he  immediately  com- 
menced to  write. 

It  was  a  study  for  a  sleight  of  hand  man  to  watch  Tighe's 
hold  of  the  pen  ;  it  might  have  been  a  crowbar  for  the  strength 
and  desperation  with  which  he  seized  it,  and  imagining  that 
much  depended  on  the  skill  with  which  he  might  appear  to 
use  it,  he  lifted  it  so  high  from  the  paper,  and  made  such  ex- 
traordinary flourishes  in  the  air,  that  the  poor  befooled  Eng- 
lishman began  to  think  he  was  in  company  with  a  madman. 
Tighe  had  gone  sufficiently  far  in  a  course  of  education  to  be 
able  to  make  pot-hooks  and  hangers,  and  with  these  crossed 
and  blended  in  strange  confusion,  he  filled  the  paper. 

"  It's  the  Irish  way  of  writin',"  he  explained  to  the  soldier, 
as  the  latter  attempted  to  scrutinize  the  hieroglyphics  over 
Tighe's  shoulder ;  "  an'  now  listen  to  the  contints." 
"  '  Darlin'  Misthress  Moore  : ' 

"  Nothin'  less  than  darlin'd  do,"  explained  Tighe,  "  because 
nothin'  else'd  be  strong  enough." 

' '  You've  been  the  light  of  me  eyes  since  I  met  you,  an'  the 
pulse  of  me  heart.  Widout  any  animadvarsion  I  may  say  that 
in  all  the  carcumlocutions  of  poethry  an'  logic  there's  nothin' 
so  superiminently  parfect  to  be  found  on  the  face  of  the 
globe  as  the  young  an'  charmin'  Widdy  Moore.' 

"  Do  you  mind  that  word  superiminently  !  Sure  if  she  hai 
a  heart  of  stone  she'll  be  melted  at  such  a  word  as  that.** 

And  Tighe,  having  glanced  for  a  moment  away  from  the 
epistle  to  make  that  forcible  remark,  immediately  resumed  the 
pretended  translation  of  his  Irish  love-letter. 

4  The  bamin'  light  o'  the  sun  grows  dim  whin  you're  not  in 
its  prisence,  an'  the  tinder  pulsations  o'  me  own  palpi- 
tatin'  heart  no  longer  go  on  whin  your  smile  isn't  afore  me. 
Like  a  rose  that  kisses  the  mornin'  dew,  an'  A  bee  that  sipi 


II  CARROLL  VDONOQHUE. 

from  the  fairest  flower,  consider  me,  darlin',  charmin'  Mit» 
thress  Moore, 

Your  own  undivided  an'  undividable  lover. 

*  There,  yer  honor  !  May  I  niver  if  that  doesn't  win  her. 
Let  me  take  it  whin  you  have  it  wrote,  an'  I'll  bring  you  back 
a  divartin'  answer." 

Still  too  mystified  and  too  dull  to  know  that  he  was  being 
made  the  object  of  as  keen  a  piece  of  sport  as  even  Tighe  a 
Vohr  had  ever  perpetrated,  the  soldier,  like  one  in  a  dream,  took 
the  pen,  and  on  a  clean  sheet  of  paper  began  to  write  at 
Tighe's  dictation,  word  for  word  of  what  had  been  read  to 
him. 

"  An'  what  name  are  you  puttin'  ?  "  asked  Tighe,  as  the  sol- 
dier was  finishing  his  signature. 

"  William  Garfield,  quartermaster  in  her  Majesty's 

Regiment,"  was  the  response. 

Sealed  and  superscribed,  the  letter  was  given  into  Tighe's 
delighted  possession. 

"  I'll  have  an  answer  for  you  this  very  night,"  he  said,  put- 
ting the  missive  carefully  into  his  bosom. 

"  Captain  Crawford  is  in  now,"  spoke  an  orderly  from  the 
doorway.  "  Here,  you  fool  that  wanted  to  see  him,  come  this 
way." 

"  That  must  be  the  name  they  give  you  in  your  own  coun- 
thry,  or  you  wouldn't  be  so  ready  to  turn  it  over  to  your  bet- 
thers  whin  you  come  here,"  said  Tighe  slyly,  as,  with  Shaun 
at  his  heels,  he  prepared  to  obey  the  insolently-spoken  re- 
quest. 

The  orderly  gave  an  impudent  stare  at  the  speaker,  but  feel- 
ing that  he  was  an  unequal  match  for  the  Irishman,  he  did 
not  answer,  and  the  way  to  the  officers'  quarters  was  traversed 
in  silence. 

Captain  Crawford  was  in  unusually  good  humor ;  tidings 
had  been  received  of  the  failure  of  the  Fenian  plot  to  take 
possession  of  Chester  Castle  in  England,  and  the  shrewd  offi- 
cer, with  keener  judgment  than  was  evinced  by  some  who 


were  above  him  in  command,  foretold  in  his  own  mind  th« 
paralysis  which  that  failure  would  give  to  the  movement  in 
Ireland.  He  received  Tighe  with  unaffected  condescension. 

"  Well,  my  man,  have  you  ever  served  in  the  capacity  of 
valet  before  ? " 

"  In  the  cap  of  what  ?  "  repeated  Tighe  a  Vohr.  "  I  oftin 
heerd  mintion  of  a  valley,  knowin'  that  what  was  meant  by  it 
was  land  or  the  like  ;  but  that  a  man  could  make  a  valley  of 
himself  passes  me  comprehinsion  intoirely." 

"  I  don't  mean  that,"  said  Captain  Crawford,  laughing ;  "I 
mean  what  kind  of  a  servant  can  you  make  for  a  gentleman." 

"  Oh,  that's  it,"  Tighe  said  slowly  ;  then  he  paused  a  mo- 
ment as  if  in  deep  thought ;  after  which  he  began  so  voluble 
and  ludicrous  an  enumeration  of  duties  that  it  almost  took  the 
officer's  breath,  in  his  effort  to  bid  the  speaker  cease,  and  to 
stop  his  own  immoderate  laughter. 

"  I  see  you'll  do,"  he  said  ;  "  at  least  I'll  try  you,  and  there 
will  be  some  one  to  show  you  if  you  should  not  know  what  to 
do." 

"  The  laste  bit  of  showin'  in  the  world,  yer  honor,  11  be 
enough.  I  was  always  considered  smart,  an*  never  fear  but 
I'll  sarve  you  faithfully,  both  meself  an*  Shaun." 

Shaun  was  gravely  listening,  as  if  with  his  superior  canine 
instinct  he  quite  understood  the  bargain  which  was  being  made 
for  him.  "  But  I'll  have  to  ask  one  privilege,"  continued 
Tighe. 

"  And  what  is  that  ?  "  said  the  amused  officer. 

"  To  run  down  to  Dhrommacohol  once  in  a  while  to  see  my 
ould  mother." 

"  Very  well,  Tighe  ;  I  believe  you  told  me  that  was  your 
name.  I  willingly  grant  the  favor,  only  don't  make  your 
visits  at  inconvenient  times,  nor  remain  long  when  you  go ; 
and  now,  Ridge,  there,"  nodding  at  a  tall,  ungainly-looking 
man  who  had  been  an  amused  listener  during  the  interview, 
M  will  put  you  in  trim  ;  for  certainly  your  present  appear- 
ance " — speaking  with  a  laugh — "  hardly  bents  a  gentleman '• 
servant" 


jo  CARROLL  VDONOGHUB, 

Ridge  had  more  difficult  work  to  put  Tighe  in  trim  than 
his  master  had  anticipated.  The  suit,  having  belonged  to  a 
former  valet  who  was  an  exceedingly  small  and  slender  man, 
lacked  the  size  necessary  to  encase  Tighe's  proportions  ;  and 
it  was  so  unlike  Tighe  a  Vohr's  own  style  of  dress  that  it  wai 
with  many  a  grunt  and  grimace  of  displeasure  that  he  4 
length  consented  to  put  them  on. 

"  Not  a  soul'll  ever  know  me,"  he  said  ruefully,  as  he  survey 
ed  himself  in  the  glass  with  so  ludicrous  an  expression  of  re 
gret  that  his  companion  laughed  immoderately,  saying  whei 
he  recovered  his  voice  : 

"  You  are  the  rummest  one." 

He  proceeded  to  brush  Tighe  down,  and  to  give  what  wer« 
in  his  own  opinion  little  artistic  touches  to  various  parts  ol 
Tighe's  dress,  attempting  at  the  last  to  surmount  the  new 
valet's  curly  head  by  a  hat  which  had  been  worn  so  little  that 
it  retained  all  its  first  gloss. 

Tighe  stoutly  resisted.  "  The  divil  a  hair  of  that  will  go 
on  my  head,  anyway.  I've  been  takin'  your  ondacent  thrate- 
ment  long  enough,  an'  now  I'll  lade  matthers  meself.  Do  you 
see  that  ? " — thrusting  under  the  man's  very  nose  his  own  old 
battered  caubeen — "  well,  I'll  wear  that,  plaze  goodness,  an'  no 
other,  till  I  go  back  to  the  colleen  who  placed  that  there." 
He  pointed  to  the  knot  of  faded  ribbon  at  the  side. 

Argument  and  badgering  were  of  little  use  ;  Tighe  carried 
the  day,  and  presented  his  respects  to  his  new  master  with  his 
comical  head  covering  under  his 


CHAPTER  XI 
CARTER'S  TOOL. 

RICK  OF  THE  HILLS  had  fallen  speedily  into  the  maudlin 

slumber  which  Carter  had  mentally  predicted,  and  though  the 
sun  was  high  in  the  heavens,  shining  all  the  warmer  and  the 
brighter  after  the  storm  of  the  previous  night,  and  people  in 
the  neighborhood  had  been  long  astir,  Rick,  stretched  upon 
the  floor,  still  heavily  slept.  Carter  looked  in  at  him  a  couple 
of  times,  but  did  not  disturb  him,  and  now,  as  he  sat  solitary 
over  the  rasher  of  bacon  and  cup  of  tea  he  had  himself  pre- 
pared, he  was  deeply  ruminating ;  sometimes  speaking  his 
thoughts  aloud,  and  again  so  absorbed  in  silent  reflection  as 
to  forget  the  meal  before  him. 

"  I'll  forward  the  paper  this  very  day,  and  once  that  it  is  in 
possession  of  the  party  at  the  castle,  it  will  not  be  long  till  I 
am  rid  entirely  of  Carroll  O'Donoghue." 

There  was  a  loud  knock  at  the  front  entrance.  Hastily 
putting  out  of  sight  the  remains  of  his  meal,  he  hurried  to  the 
room  in  which  Rick  still  heavily  slept ;  convincing  himself 
by  a  look  that  the  slumber  was  profound,  he  withdrew,  lock- 
ing the  door,  and  then  he  cautiously  repaired  to  ascertain  the 
identity  of  his  visitor.  It  was  Father  O'Connor,  and  Carter 
was  all  obsequiousness,  flinging  the  door  wide  open,  and  mak- 
ing his  most  cringing  bow  while  the  priest  entered.  With 
profuse  apology  for  the  disorder  of  his  bachelor's  home,  he 
led  the  way  to  the  room  which  was  still  redolent  of  his  late 
breakfast. 

Father  O'Connor  gravely  seated  himself  ;  Carter,  not  a  lit- 
tle apprehensive  of  what  might  be  the  import  of  this  most 
unusual  visit,  remained  standing  in  anxious  expectation. 


CARROLL  VDONOQHUK 

44 1  was  somewhat  doubtful  of  finding  you  at  home,"  began 
the  priest  quietly. 

"  A  little  later,  your  reverence,  and  you  wouldn't  have 
found  me  ;  I  have  business  that  will  take  me  to  Tralee  to- 
day." 

u  Very  suspicious  business,  that  of  yours,  Carter,"  said  the 
clergyman,  unable  longer,  with  his  stern  sense  of  right,  and 
his  contempt  for  double-dealing,  to  beat  about  the  bush  ; 
"business  that  has  made  you  betray  your  ward,  Carroll 
O'Donoghue,  to  the  English  government." 

Carter  jumped  in  well-feigned  astonishment  ;  indeed,  his 
seeming  wonder  was  not  all  assumed,  for  he  was  amazed  to 
learn  that  his  villainy  had  been  so  speedily  discovered. 
"  May  I  never,  your  reverence,  if  that  isn't  the  most  infamous 
falsehood  that  was  ever  told  of  mortal !  who  has  dared  to 
calumniate  me  in  that  manner — "  affecting  to  swell  with  rage. 
"  I  ask  only  to  meet  the  man  who  uttered  that  lie  !  "  and  he 
began  to  stride  about  the  room  as  if  he  would  find  in  that  ex- 
ercise some  vent  for  his  passion. 

"  Oh,  be  quiet  !  "  said  the  priest,  in  a  tone  of  contempt ; 
"  the  proof  of  your  treachery  is  too  well  assured  to  be  de- 
nied by  any  assumed  bravado  on  your  part.  It  was  through 
your  instrumentality  that  Carroll  O'Donoghue  was  recaptured 
last  night." 

"  Carroll  O'Donoghue  recaptured  ! "  Carter  repeated,  readily 
Assuming  a  grief  so  real  in  its  appearance  that  even  the  con- 
victions of  the  priest  were  staggered  for  the  moment.  "  Oh, 
your  reverence,  believe  me  when  I  say  that  the  lad  has  not  a 
truer  friend  than  I  am,"  pursued  Carter,  kneeling  before  the 
clergyman ;  "  and  all  my  dealings  with  the  military,  and  my 
visits  to  the  garrison  that  have  caused  the  people  to  slander  me 
so,  have  only  been  that  I  might  give  help  to  the  boys  in  their 
difficulties.  I  swear  to  you " 

M  Hush  !  "  interrupted  the  priest  sternly,  "  keep  your  oaths 
for  another  time  and  place." 

With  a  keen  look  into  Carter's  eyes,  he  continued  :  "  Where 


CARTERS  TOOL.  93 

is  the  paper  that  was  given  you  in  Hurley's  for  safe  keeping 
the  other  night  ? " 

Carter  involuntarily  started,  but  he  answered  quickly,  re- 
turning with  a  bold  glance  the  priest's  piercing  look  : 

"  Destroyed — I  burned  it,  for  I  was  afraid  to  keep  it." 

Father  O'Connor  did  not  speak  for  a  moment ;  he  con- 
tinued to  survey  the  still  kneeling  form  with  a  look  in  which 
disgust  mingled  with  sternness  ;  then  he  said  slowly  : 

"  God  alone  knows  whether  you  are  telling  the  truth." 

Carter  made  no  reply ;  the  priest  resumed  :  "  I  have 
another  matter  to  speak  to  you  about — this  niece  of  yours, 
whom  you  have  been  hiding  all  her  life  from  her  father's 
people  ;  how  is  it  that  we,  your  friends,  have  never  heard  of 
her?" 

Carter  jumped  to  his  feet,  repressing  with  difficulty  the 
oath  which  rose  to  his  lips. 

"  That  is  my  secret,"  he  said,  doggedly,  "  and  I  shall  not  be 
made  to  tell  it  to  any  one." 

Father  O'Connor  also  arose. 

"  Morty  Carter,"  he  said  slowly  and  sadly,  "  I  have  no  de- 
sire to  learn  your  secrets  ;  my  concern  is  to  do  my  duty  by 
warning  you  of  the  evil  of  your  course.  God  alone  sees  your 
heart,  and  if  you  have  deceived  me  His  judgment  will  over- 
take you.  Should  there  be  aught  wrong  in  this  affair  of 
Cathleen  Kelly,  the  name  by  which  you  directed  the  child  to 
be  called,  you  will  one  day  have  to  answer  for  it." 

Carter's  face  slightly  fell,  despite  his  efforts  to  the  contrary, 
and  his  eyes  dropped  for  a  moment  before  the  priest's  steady 
and  piercing  look. 

"  I  have  not  come  to  you  in  anger,"  continued  the  speaker, 
"  I  have  only  come  in  warning.  I  do  not  forget  " — his  voice 
took  a  kindlier  tone — "  that  my  infancy  owes  you  somewhat : 
your  care  for  me  on  the  death  of  my  parents,  and  your  sub- 
sequent provision  of  a  home  with  the  O'Donoghues  for  me, 
claim  and  possess  my  gratitude  ;  it  is  with  that  feeling  now 
that  I  beg  you,  Morty,  to  pause  before  you  steep  your  soul 


..  CARROLL  VDONOGHUB. 

V^ 

farther  in  guilt.  If  it  be  in  your  power,  undo  what  evil  you 
may  have  already  done,  and  henceforward  be  true  to  God, 
and  to  yourself." 

"  I  have  done  nothing,"  was  the  sullen  reply,  "  and  I  cannot 
understand  your  seeking  me  here  to  brand  me  with  an  infamy 
in  which  I  have  no  part." 

He  drew  himself  up  with  an  excellent  assumption  of  right- 
eous indignation.  The  priest  sighed,  and  said  with  an  air  of 
pain : 

"  Well,  Morty,  you  are  determined,  I  see,  to  persist  in  the 
course  you  have  chosen  ;  on  your  own  head  be  the  awful  con- 
sequences— and  awful  will  be  the  consequences  of  such  vil- 
lainy as  yours  ;  but,  waiving  that  subject  now,  I  have  a  mes- 
sage to  give  you  from  William  Kelly.  He  was  mortally 
wounded  in  an  attack  on  the  barracks,  and  with  his  dying  lips 
he  told  me  the  story  of  your  confiding  to  his  mother's  charge 
this  girl,  Cathleen,  and  he  begged  me  to  ask  you  to  continue 
the  monthly  sum  you  have  paid  for  her  care.  Will  you  do 
•o?" 

"  I  will,"  answered  Carter,  his  face  brightening  ;  "  while 
Cathleen  stays  with  Mrs.  Kelly  I'll  continue  the  payment." 

"  That  is  all,"  said  Father  O'Connor,  turning  to  the  door. 
Carter  followed  him. 

"  Your  reverence,"  he  said,  with  an  exceedingly  meek  and 
injured  air,  "  I  am  greatly  distressed.  Do  you  believe  me  to 
be  guilty  of  all  the  base  things  that  are  reported  of  me  ?  " 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say,  Morty,  that  I  do.  The  look  in  your 
eye  reveals  your  guilt  May  God  give  you  grace  to  repeat ! 
good-by." 

Without  even  proffering  his  hand,  he  descended  the  old- 
fashioned  stair,  and  passed  out  through  the  front  entrance  so 
rapidly  that  Carter  hardly  realized  his  departure  for  a  second 
or  two.  Then  he  muttered  : 

"  So  I'm  being  discovered  on  all  sides,  and  ten  to  one  but 
they've  turned  Carroll  against  me.  Well,  it  makes  little  dif- 
ference now  ;  my  plans  are  pretty  well  laid,  and  by  all  that'i 


CARTERS  TOOL.  95 

mighty,  111  see  every  one  of  them  that's  against  m«  crushed 
yet,  and  I'll  live  long  enough  to  behold  dainty  Nora  McCar- 
thy suing  for  mercy  at  my  feet" 

He  turned  into  the  room  and  went  to  a  corner  which  was 
occupied  by  a  stout  trunk.  Opening  the  trunk  with  a  pecu- 
liar key  which  he  took  from  his  waistcoat  pocket,  there  were 
exposed  sundry  discolored  and  half -torn  newspapers,  together 
with  packets  of  yellow  letters  tied  with  bits  of  dirty  tape.  Car- 
ter plunged  his  hand  amid  the  mass  and  drew  up  a  little 
round  tin  box.  It  was  securely  locked,  but  a  tiny  key  attached 
by  a  slender  chain  to  the  key  he  had  already  employed  opened 
it,  and  there  was  exposed  an  evenly-folded  paper.  This  he 
opened  and  spread  upon  his  knee.  There,  indeed,  was  all 
the  evidence  required  for  the  arrest  and  even  capital  punish- 
ment of  Fenian  leaders — full  plans  of  the  organization  of  the 
I.  R.  B.  ;*  entire  names  of  the  officers  ;  details  of  future  move- 
ments. Carter's  eyes  sparkled. 

"  They  didn't  discover  my  treachery  in  time  ;  and  Father 
O'Connor  thought  I'd  be  omadhaun  enough  to  hand  over  this 
paper  to  him — oh,  no  !  delivery  of  it  to  another  quarter  will 
bring  many  a  pound  into  my  purse.  It  was  a  fortunate  stroke 
on  my  part  to  get  this  document  just  before  I  gave  informa- 
tion of  the  boys'  intended  attack  on  the  barracks  ;  and  they 
thought  I'd  keep  it  safely — so  I  will  ;  I'll  keep  it  safe  for  my 
own  interest's  sake.  I  haven't  lived  to  this  time  of  day,  plot- 
ting and  planning,  not  to  know  when  a  wonderful  piece  of 
luck  like  this  falls  in  my  way.  With  Carroll  O'Donoghue 
hung,  as  he  shall  be,  a  large  reward  mine,  as  it  will  be  for  this 
information,  and  Nora  McCarthy  my  wife,  which  she  must  be, 
the  divil  a  hare  I  care  for  the  rest  of  matters.  To  be  sure, 
I'd  like  if  something  would  take  Rick  out  of  the  way  after  he 
has  served  my  purpose,  and  may  be  I  can  manage  that  also. 
He  knows  too  much  of  the  past  ;  and  what  with  his  mad  love 
for  Cathhen,  and  his  devilish  scruples  about  doing  dirty  work, 
as  he  calls  it,  he  is  getting  to  be  dangerous." 
*  Irioh  Republican  Brotherhood. 


9g  CARROLL  (TDONOGHUS. 

He  paused  a  moment  as  if  surprised  by  some  sudden 
thought ;  then  he  resumed  his  soliloquy  : 

*•  I  wonder,  now,  if  this  prying  poke  of  a  priest  would  take 
it  into  his  head  to  go  and  see  the  Widow  Kelly,  and  Cath- 
leen  !  well,  if  he  should,  he'll  learn  nothing  more  than  he  al- 
ready knows,  for  they  are  as  much  in  the  dark  about  my 
doings  as  I  want  them  to  be." 

He  began  to  fold  the  open  paper  still  on  his  knee,  contin- 
uing : 

"  They  will  probably  hurry  Carroll  on  to  prison ;  well,  I 
shall  see  him,  anyway,  and  sound  him  ;  if  they  have  not 
told  him  about  my  proposal  to  Miss  McCarthy,  why  he  used 
to  have  such  an  affection  for  me,  and  to  trust  me  so  implicitly, 
that  I  think  I  can  make  it  appear  to  him  how  I  have  been 
wronged  and  slandered." 

He  put  the  packet  he  had  made  of  the  paper  carefully  into 
his  bosom,  replaced  the  little  box  within  the  trunk,  locked  the 
latter,  restored  the  key  to  his  waistcoat  pocket,  and  going  to 
the  closet,  began  to  devour  the  cold  remains  of  his  unfinished 
meal. 

Rick  still  slept,  his  drunken  snore  beginning  to  grow  omin- 
ously loud,  as  Carter,  having  hastily  equipped  himself  for  a 
journey,  entered  the  room  where  the  sleeper  was  yet  extended 
on  the  floor.  It  required  minutes  to  thoroughly  waken  the 
latter,  and  to  make  him  comprehend  what  Carter  was  say- 
ing. 

"  I'm  off  now  for  Tralee,  with  this,"  touching  his  breast 
pocket  in  which  he  had  placed  the  important  paper  ;  "  and  I 
don't  know  when  I'll  be  back.  Do  you  mind  things  about 
here,  and  be  prepared  when  I  return  to  do  what  I  asked  last 
night." 

Rick  shook  himself  erect,  and  glowered  into  the  face  of  the 
ipeaker,  but  he  did  not  reply. 

"  You  can  have  the  liberty  of  this  place  if  you  like  till  I 
come  back.  You'll  find  all  the  provisions  you  need  up-stairs, 
and  if  anything  should  happen  that  would  make  it  necessary 


VA&TER8  TOOL.  99 

for  you  to  see  me,  you  can  follow  me  to  Hoolahan's — 111 
drop  in  there  every  day  while  I  shall  be  gone." 

Without  farther  farewell  he  departed,  walking  down  the 
street  with  that  all-important  and  overbearing  air  which  the 
consciousness  of  a  little  power  gives  to  mean  and  craven  souls. 
There  was  no  inward  shrinking,  nor  impulse  of  shame  at  the 
dastardly  part  he  was  acting ;  such  emotions  had  been  stifled 
long  since,  and  for  years  he  had  worked  but  for  one  infernal 
aim.  Toward  that  aim  he  strode,  regardless  of  what  h* 
might  cruelly  demolish  on  the  way. 


CHAPTER  XIL 

IMPRISONED. 

OHC»  more  imprisoned  !  Young  O'Donoghue  looked  round 
«n  the  bare  stone  walls,  familiar  from  his  former  imprison- 
ment previous  to  his  transportation,  and  it  seemed  but  a  day 
«nce  he  had  stood  in  that  identical  spot,  and  felt  for  the  first 
time  all  the  horrors  of  incarceration.  The  numerous  events 
of  the  past  few  months  rushed  to  his  mind — his  trial,  the  ver- 
dict, the  sensation  caused  in  tht  crowded  court-room  by  the 
Agonizing  scream  of  his  sister  when  that  verdict  was  delivered, 
his  sentence,  his  desolate  voyage  to  Australia,  his  hard  prison 
Wfe  there,  his  escape,  due  to  the  faithful  Tighe  a  Vohr ;  his 
>rdent  hope  of  being  able  to  achieve  something  for  Ireland's 
independence  ;  his  brief,  blissful  meeting  with  Nora  ;  his  sud- 
den, painful  re-arrest ;  and  now,  at  the  close  of  it  all,  death 
— too  surely  he  felt  that  such  would  be  the  end.  He  threw 
himself  on  the  wretched  bed  and  covered  his  face  with  his 
hands,  giving  himself  up  to  the  most  gloomy  thoughts.  He 
was  so  young  to  die  ;  and  to  die,  too,  without  having  given 
one  blow  for  the  land  he  loved  so  well ;  to  h^ve  all  his  enthu- 
siasm crushed  in  an  ignominious  death,  before  it  should  find 
vent  in  one  act  which  could  aid  the  struggling  cause  ;  to  be 
torn  from  the  side  of  the  bright  creature  whose  look  of  an- 
guish as  he  was  hurried  from  her  continually  haunted  him, 
were  reflections  which  cut  into  his  soul.  He  groaned  in 
spirit,  and  clasped  his  hands  tighter  about  his  eyes,  as  if  to 
shut  out  the  vision  of  her  face  ;  but  after  a  little  calmer,  and 
even  somewhat  hopeful  thoughts  returned.  His  early  boy- 
hood appeared  before  him — the  happy  years  spent  in  the  old 
kome,  when  hb  father  lived,  and  Nora,  and  Clare,  and  Fathei 
(ft) 


IMPRISONED.  w 

O'Connor  and  he  were  all  as  united  and  affectionate  as  though 
they  were  bound  by  the  natural  ties  of  kindred.  He  remem- 
bered their  first  sorrow  when  Father  O'Connor  was  sent  to 
college  ;  their  next  grief,  two  years  after,  when  Carroll  him- 
self, who  was  three  years  younger,  followed  Father  O'Connor 
to  a  college  in  France.  His  recall  because  of  his  father's 
death  ;  pecuniary  troubles,  owing  to  his  father's  boundless 
charity  ;  and  finally,  the  loss  of  their  ancient  and  beautiful 
home.  His  mind  was  vividly  picturing  all,  but  in  every  scene 
stood  Nora  McCarthy ;  her  gravity  of  character  remarkable 
even  in  early  youth,  her  gentleness  to  the  veriest  menial,  her 
charity,  seeking  outlets  which  she  intended  should  be  known 
alone  to  God,  but  which  accident,  and  the  gairulous  tongues 
of  those  she  benefited,  sometimes  revealed ;  her  sympathy 
with  the  cause  of  her  country  ;  her  noble  admonitions  to  Car- 
roll himself  ;  and  above  all  her  simple  and  ardent  piety  which 
dictated  every  act,  all  pressed  upon  the  young  man  with  a 
force  and  sweetness  which  strangely  cheered  and  stimulated 
him.  He  rose  to  a  sitting  posture  and  took  from  his  bosom 
a  little  silver  crucifix,  Nora's  gift  to  him  on  their  betrothal. 
He  pressed  it  to  his  lips  again  and  again,  and  finally  dropped 
to  his  knees  to  say  the  prayers  she  loved,  and  of  which  he  had 
such  dire  need. 

The  guard  continued  to  pace  with  monotonous  tread  the 
corridor  without  the  cell,  and  indistinct  sounds  from  the  busy 
world  above  him  floated  to  his  ears.  A  patch  of  the  blue  sky 
was  visible  from  his  grated  window,  and  through  the  bars  a 
sunbeam  suddenly  struggled,  falling  athwart  the  floor  and 
bathing  him  in  its  light  as  he  knelt.  It  seemed  like  an  omen 
of  good  cheer,  and  he  rose  strangely  comforted  and  strength- 
ened. He  knew  that  he  was  more  strongly  guarded  than  on 
the  occasion  of  his  former  imprisonment,  and  he  doubted  not 
but  that  his  privileges  would  be  more  restricted,  perhaps 
even  to  the  cruel  extremity  of  forbidding  all  visits  from  hii 
friends. 

Tighe  a  Vohr  had  won  his  way  to  him  before,  under  diffi- 


ieo  CARROLL  &DONOQHUB. 

cnlties  well-nigh  as  great,  and  Carroll  felt  that  the  faithful  fel- 
low would  spare  no  effort  to  gain  access  to  him  now. 

The  step  of  the  guard  paused  at  the  cell  door,  the  bolt  was 
shot  back,  the  heavily-studded  door  swung  open,  and  Carter 
entered.  The  unaffected  smile  which  broke  over  Carroll's 
face,  his  exclamation  of  joy,  and  forward  movement  to  wel- 
come his  visitor,  all  told  the  latter  that  his  true  reputation 
as  yet  had  not  been  revealed  to  the  prisoner. 

"  My  dear  boy  !  " 

He  was  embracing  young  O'Donoghue  with  well  simulated, 
frantic  affection,  pretending  even  to  be  moved  to  tears  at 
meeting  him  under  such  painful  circumstances. 

"  1  never  heard  of  your  arrest  till  yesterday  morning,  when 
Father  O'Connor  told  me  ;  it  gave  me  a  shock  ;  I  could  not 
rest  till  I  had  seen  you,  and  it  is  only  by  bribes  and  influence 
that  I  am  at  last  admitted  to  you.  Keep  up  your  heart,  my 
dear  boy  ;  you  shall  not  be  here  long.  I  think  I  can  secure 
means  of  escape,  only  we  must  be  cautious." 

He  looked  carefully  about  the  cell,  and  walking  to  the 
door,  which  had  been  closed  and  bolted  on  the  outside,  list- 
ened for  a  moment ;  the  only  sound  that  reached  him  was 
the  step  of  the  guard.  Satisfied,  he  returned  to  Carroll. 

"  Carroll  O'Donoghue,  do  you  trust  me  ? " 

The  question  was  put  so  suddenly  and  so  earnestly  thai 
the  young  man  was  startled. 

"  Certainly,  Morty  ;  why  do  you  ask  ? " 

"  Because,"— Carter  folded  his  arms,  dropped  his  head  till 
his  chin  almost  rested  on  his  breast,  and  spoke  with  such  an 
assumption  of  sadness  that  the  impulsive,  tender-hearted 
young  fellow  was  deeply  touched — "  because,"  repeated  Car- 
ter, "  my  character  has  been  vilified  and  blackened,  till  the 
whole  country  is  against  me.  What  has  a  man  but  his  char- 
acter ?  and  mine  they  have  taken.  Don't  touch  me,  Carroll 
O'Donoghue,  don't  speak  to  me,  but  bid  me  to  begone  from 
your  presence,  for  I  stand  before  you  accused  of  treachery 
and  robbery.** 


IMPRISONED.  I0f 

*  What  do  you  mean  ? "  broke  in  Carroll,  painfully  excited. 

"  I  mean  this," — lifting  his  head  and  straightening  himself 
as  if  with  the  proud  consciousness  of  his  innocence — "  that  I 
have  enemies  about  who  have  been  defaming  every  action  and 
word  of  mine.  I  became  familiar  with  the  English  soldiers, 
I  won  the  favor  of  the  English  officers,  I  was  permitted  free 
access  to  the  barracks  ;  but  what  did  I  do  it  for  ? — to  help 
the  cause  I  would  die  to  serve  ;  and  I  did  help  the  cause, 
and  help  it  well.  My  information  warned  the  boys  many  a 
time,  and  saved  them.  But  what  do  they  say  of  me  now  ? — 
that  I  have  betrayed  them,  and  worse  than  that,  they  say  it 
is  I  who  have  betrayed  you,  Carroll  O'Donoghue ;  you 
whose  life  I  saved  when  you  were  a  child,  you  whom  I  carried 
in  my  arms  when  you  were  a  little  boy  and  tired  from  the 
sports  of  the  day,  you,  the  son  of  that  man  who  trusted  me 
as  if  I  was  his  brother,  you  that  I  love  as  I  would  my  own 
son " 

He  stopped  suddenly  as  if  his  voice  had  broken  from  emo- 
tion. 

"  These  are  ridiculous  charges,"  said  O'Donoghue,  his  lip 
curling  with  scorn. 

"  Nevertheless,"  resumed  Carter,  "  they  are  the  charges  that 
are  brought  against  me,  and  my  enemies  have  done  even 
worse  ;  they  have  made  your  sister  and  Miss  McCarthy  deem 
me  their  bitter  foe, — neither  one  of  the  young  ladies  will  give  me 
a  civil  look — and  they  have  gone  to  live  with  Father  Meagher 
in  order  to  be  protected  against  me — me  their  guardian,  and, 
Heaven  knows,  their  best  friend." 

Again  his  head  fell,  and  his  voice  assumed  the  sadneu 
which  he  knew  would  not  fail  to  touch  his  youthful  listener. 

"  This  is  dreadful !  "  exclaimed  the  young  man. 

Carter  looked  up. 

"  If  it  touches  you  so  deeply,  how  must  it  wound  me  ? 
And  there  is  yet  more  :  Father  Meagher  told  me  to  my  face 
that  he  did  not  trust  me,  and  when  I  entreated  young  Father 
O'Connor  to  tell  me  his  opinion,  his  answer  was  that  he  too 


Iot  CARROLL  VDONOQHUM. 

believed  me  guilty  of  all  that  was  reported  of  me  !  Oh  Car- 
roll,  pity  me  !  "  He  took  a  step  forward  to  the  young  man,  and 
let  his  hands  drop  to  his  sides  as  if  in  the  very  abandonment  of 
lorrow.  "  I  am  getting  to  be  an  old  man  ;  my  heart  had  few 
loves  in  this  world,  but  even  those  have  been  torn  from  it  ;  and 
now,  if  you  too  believe  these  wretched  lies,  and  spurn  me,  I 
have  nothing  left  to  live  for." 

"  Never !  "  answered  Carroll  impetuously ;  *'  the  world  may 
turn  against  you,  Morty,  but  I  shall  retain  my  trust  in,  and 
my  affection  for  you,  and  I  shall  make  Nora,  and  my  sister, 
and  Father  Meagher,  and  Father  O'Connor,  know  how 
wronged  and  calumniated  you  have  been." 

"  That  is  just  what  you  must  not  do,"  answered  Carter. 

"  What !  "  burst  from  Carroll,  "  not  permit  me  to  defend 
you  ? " 

"No  !  I  will  have  no  defense  made  for  me  until  I  can  my- 
self prove  the  falsity  of  the  charges  which  have  been  brought 
against  me,  and  that  I  shall  be  able  to  do  when  you,  Carroll 
O'Donoghue,  have,  through  my  means,  escaped.  They  say 
that  I  have  betrayed  you  ;  let  your  freedom,  gained  through  me, 
give  the  lie  to  that  ;  Miss  McCarthy  now  believes  me  to  be  her 
foe  ;  let  her  marriage  with  you,  which  shall  be  speedy  through 
my  efforts,  show  her  her  error.  Your  sister  thinks  I  would 
gloat  over  her  poverty  ;  let  the  little  property  which  I  possess, 
and  which  I  shall  deed  to  her,  prove  that  she  has  wronged 
me.  I  ask  only  to  live  to  accomplish  these  things,  and  then, 
poor,  old,  lonely,  desolate  Morty  Carter  will  retire  where  his 
shadow  will  never  again  cross  the  path  of  friend  or  foe." 

Carroll,  in  the  ardor  of  his  sympathy,  sprung  forward  and 
caught  Carter's  hands,  wringing  them  hard. 

"  Morty,  do  not  take  this  so  to  heart ;  and  believe  me  when 
I  assure  you  of  my  trust  and  affection  ! " 

"  I  do,"  was  the  response,  sadly  spoken,  "  believe  that  you 
trust  me  now,  and  that  you  will  continue  to  trust  me  until  you 
have  heard  their  story,  and " 

Carroll  interrupted  :  "  They  told  me  nothing  when  I  saw 


IMPRISONED.  S6J 

them  on  the  night  of  my  arrest ;  nothing  of  you  save  to  men- 
tion your  name  in  an  incidental  manner." 

"  I  can't  account  for  that,"  replied  Carter  ;  "  but  never  fear, 
you'll  hear  it  all  soon  enough,  and  then  you  too  will  turn 
against  me." 

"  Never  !  I  swear  to  you  that  I  never  shall  ;  it  would  re- 
quire proof  before  my  very  eyes  ;  such  proof  as  should  com- 
pel from  you  an  open  avowal  of  your  guilt,  before  I  could  be- 
lieve aught  against  you,  Morty." 

"  Will  you  swear  to  me  then,  my  dear  boy,  that  no  matter 
what  they  tell  you,  how  fiercely  they  may  denounce  me,  how 
firmly  they  may  believe  the  evil  that  is  spoken  of  me,  you  will 
not  believe  it — that  you  will  not  suffer  your  trust  in  me  to  be 
diminished  in  the  least  ?  " 

"  Willingly,  Morty  ;  I  swear  to  all  that  without  hesitation  * 

"  And  will  you  further  swear  to  say  nothing  about  me, — not 
to  mention  even  that  I  have  been  here  to  see  you — that  you 
will  simply  listen  to  all  they  say,  without  putting  in  one  word 
about  me,  good  or  bad  ? " 

"  Well,  since  it  gratifies  you,  yes  ;  but  it  certainly  will  be 
very  hard  for  me  to  listen  calmly  while  you  are  being  vili- 
fied." 

"  Only  for  a  time,  my  dear  boy  ;  only  for  a  time,  and  then 
you  shall  rejoice  with  me  in  the  full  proof  of  my  innocence. 
And  now,  there  is  the  guard  coming  to  let  me  out," — as  some 
one  paused  at  the  cell  door.  "  My  plan  for  your  escape  will 
be  matured  in  a  day  or  two  ;  till  then  keep  up  your  courage 
and  remember  your  promise  to  me." 

The  iron  bolt  was  shot  back  with  an  ominous  click,  the  heavy 
door  swung  open,  and  Carter,  wringing  hard  the  hand  of  hii 
ward,  passed  without  ;  another  instant,  and  Carroll  O'Dono- 
ghuc  was  again  a  solitary  prisoner. 


CHAPTER  XIIL 
•no,  WIDOW'S  RKPLT. 

IN  a  small,  dingy  back  room,  situated  in  the  poorest  quar* 
ter  of  Tralee,  a  queer,  crabbed  little  man  sat  smoking  ;  the 
dudheen  was  well  blackened,  and  the  puffs  arose  from  it  in  ix> 
precise  and  systematic  a  manner  that  they  seemed  to  be  fol- 
lowing some  plan  in  the  smoker's  mind.  A  small,  old-fashioned 
table,  littered  with  writing  materials,  was  before  him,  and 
about  the  room  was  scattered  a  fantastical  medley  of  furniture, 
the  arrangement  of  which  was  marked  by  the  disorder  and 
want  of  cleanliness  which  told  of  the  utter  absence  of  a  woman's 
hand.  The  occupant  himself  was  in  little  better  condition  ; 
from  his  half-soiled  linen,  profusely  visible  above  his  waist- 
coat, to  the  dusty  shoes  worn  into  large  and  ungainly  shape 
by  numerous  excrescences  on  his  feet,  he  had  the  same  musty* 
neglected  look  as  his  grim  bachelor  apartment.  His  face,  in- 
dented with  wrinkles,  and  brown  with  freckles,  could  not  boast 
of  an  even  feature,  and  his  little,  round,  bald  head  was  orna- 
mented at  the  sides  with  tufts  of  gray  hair  tortured  into  the 
semblance  of  a  curl. 

A  bold  knock  suddenly  interrupted  his  cogitations  ;  he 
seemed  to  be  in  no  hurry  to  admit  his  visitor,  for  he  drew 
another  whiff  from  his  pipe,  and  then  took  it  slowly  out  of  his 
mouth,  as  if  he  regretted  being  obliged  to  part  with  it  for  even 
»  short  time.  The  knock  was  repeated,  and  the  visitor,  ap- 
parently impatient,  attempted  to  admit  himself  ;  but  the  door 
was  locked. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  the  queer  occupant  of  the  room,  with  a  grunt 
of  satisfaction  ;  "  foiled  that  time  ;  don't  be  so  hasty,  my 
friend,  whoever  you  are,  to  get  into  a  gentleman's  apartment "* 
(104) 


THE  WIDOW'S  REPLY. 


105 


By  this  time  he  had  laid  his  pipe  carefully  down,  and  shak- 
ing himself  out  of  his  chair,  he  proceeded  leisurely  to  the 
door.  The  knock  was  again  repeated  ;  still  the  grim  little  man 
did  not  hasten  his  movements  ;  he  had  a  key  to  turn,  and  a 
bolt  to  shoot  back,  and  a  spike  to  take  out,  and  by  the  time 
that  all  these  preparations  were  completed,  and  the  door  stood 
fairly  open,  the  visitor's  impatience  had  not  decreased. 

"  May  I  never  be  drowned  in  a  mud  pool,  but  it's  Tighe  a 
Vohr  !  "  burst  from  the  strange  little  man,  startled  out  of  his 
wonted  phlegmatic  manner  by  his  delighted  astonishment. 
It  was  Tighe  a  Vohr,  but  in  such  a  costume  that,  as  he  him- 
self had  expressed  it,  hardly  his  own  mother  would  know  him 
— knee-breeches,  body-coat,  white  vest,  a  spotless  choker,  and 
surmounting  his  mass  of  short,  brown  curls,  his  own,  old,  worn 
hat,  presenting  a  most  ludicrous  contrast  to  the  rest  of  his 
dress. 

"  Where  did  you  come  from  ?  "  pursued  the  little  man,  "  and 
what  are  you  doing  in  such  a  dress  as  that  ?  " — shaking  both 
Tighe's  hands  vigorously,  and  drawing  him  into  the  room, 
forgetting  in  his  eager  delight  to  close  the  door.  But  Tighe 
had  no  desire  to  be  stared  at  by  the  prying  eyes  of  other 
dwellers  in  the  house  who  might  happen  to  pass,  and  as  soon 
as  he  had  extricated  himself  from  the  friendly  grasp,  he  closed 
and  locked  the  door. 

"  You  may  well  ask,"  he  replied,  returning  to  the  little  man, 
M  how  I  kem  to  have  such  a  dress  as  this,  bad  luck  to  it !  it 
has  me  so  bothered  that  I  can't  think  a  sthraight  thought," 
— ruefully  surveying  himself  back  and  front.  "  But  sit  down, 
Corny,  an'  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it ;  it's  a  long  an*  a  divartin' 
story." 

Corny  obeyed,  forgetting,  in  his  interest,  to  resume  his  pipe, 
and  Tighe  seated  himself  near.  In  his  own  ludicrous,  and 
yet  sometimes  pathetic  manner,  he  told  the  tale  of  his  trip  to 
Australia,  and  the  subsequent  events. 

"  And  you  are  here,  now,  servant  to  an  English  officer  ? 
bedad  it's  the  quare  things  you  turn  your  hand  to,  Tighe." 


io6 


CARROLL  VDONOGHUR. 


"  Vis,"  answered  Tighe  ;  "  an'  there's  no  knowin*  what  ITJ 
do  next,  do  you  understand,  Corny  ?  I'll  do  any  mortal  thing 
that'd  help  the  masther." 

"  I  do,  Tighe,  an'  them  are  the  sentiments  I  admire  ;  you 
are  your  mother's  own  son,  Timothy  Carmody,  or  in  the  Irish 
of  it,  Tighe  a  Vohr." 

"  Do  you  see  now,"  pursued  Tighe,  drawing  his  chair  closer 
to  that  of  his  listener,  "  I'll  make  mesel'  a  favorite  in  the  bar- 
racks there  ;  not  on;  o'  thim  suspects  me  intintions  ;  Captain 
Crawford  tuk  the  greatest  likin*  to  me  intoirely,  an'  between 
one  an'  the  other  o'  thim,  keepin'  me  eyes  an'  me  ears  open, 
mebbe  I'll  ketch  many  a  bit  o'  information  that'll  be  for  the 
masther's  binefit.  An'  that's  what  brought  me  here  this 
mornin', — to  have  you  help  me.  I  was  mortally  afeerd  I 
wouldn't  find  you, — that  you'd  be  gone  out  of  the  ould  place, 
or  that  somethin'  happened  you,  or  the  loike,  seem'  it's  so 
long  since  I  laid  eyes  on  you." 

"  No,  Tighe,  I'm  wedded  to  my  surroundings.  On  the  day 
that  your  mother  married  Timothy  Carmody,  I  sed  to  mesel', 
'  henceforth,  Corny  O'Toole,  let  your  heart  be  dead  to  the 
natural  affections  ;  let  the  things  of  nature  be  your  wife  and 
children,  and  make  no  changes — stay  in  the  one  spot,  and  let 
time  reconcile  you  to  the  fact  that  if  you  had  been  beforehand 
with  Timothy  Carmody,  it  is  Mrs.  O'Toole  your  mother 
would  be,  Tighe,  and  you,  you  would  be  my  son,  Timothy 
O'Toole.'" 

In  the  excess  of  his  feelings  he  leaned  across  and  wrung 
Tighe's  hand. 

"  An'  why  didn't  you  ax  her  since,  Corny  ?  she's  a  widdy 
this  many  a  year,  an'  be  me  sowl,  I  don't  think  she'd  refuse 
you." 

The  little  man  arose. 

"  Is  it  desecrate  the  ashes  of  her  widowed  heart  by  a  pro- 
posal now,  when  her  husband  is  in  his  cold  grave  ?  Tina 
Carmody,  do  not  so  disrespect  my  years  an'  my  gray  hairs." 
He  touched  his  sidelocks  with  melodramatic  gesture. 


THE  WIDOW'S  BEPLT. 


107 


"  Tatther  an'  ages  !  it  isn't  whin  her  husband  was  alive  that 
you'd  be  poppin'  the  question  to  her  ?  "  broke  in  Tighe. 

"  No,  Mr.  Carmody,"  with  a  tragic  action  of  his  arms,  "  nor 
shall  I  now  disturb  the  beautiful  serenity  of  her  widowed 
feelings  by  such  an  offer.  I  honor  your  mother," — placing  hia 
hand  on  his  heart — "  and  I  will  leave  her  to  repose  her  love  in 
the  cold  grave  of  her  lamented  husband." 

He  sat  down,  wiping  his  face. 

"  Well,"  said  Tighe,  "  we'll  not  moind  about  that  little  mat- 
ther  for  the  present.  I  want  your  help  wid  this ;  you  tuk 
in  a  while  ago,  all  that  I  tould  you  about  the  letther  I  med 
the  quarthermasther  write  to  one  Widdy  Moore  ? " 

Corny  nodded  his  head. 

"  Well,  I  want  you  now  to  write  an  answer  as  if  it  kern  from 
the  Widdy  Moore — that's  what  brought  me  here  this  mornin'  ; 
he  expected  an  answer  last  night,  but  I  tould  him  that  the 
widdy  wasn't  in,  but  that  I  left  the  letther,  an'  also  how  I  left 
word  that  I'd  go  afther  an  answer  this  mornin'.  Do  you  see, 
now,  Corny,  he's  a  soft  soort  o'  fellow  that  it's  not  hard  to  get 
round  at  all,  an'  if  I  can  sthring  him  for  a  while  wid  some- 
thing loike  this,  I  may  be  able  to  turn  him  to  account.  I  got 
out  o'  him  last  night  the  perticler  part  of  the  jail  where  Mr. 
O'Donoghue  is,  an'  how  his  thrial  is  likely  to  come  off  afore  a 
great  while.  Sure  it's  your  business  to  be  writin'  letthers  an' 
the  loike," — glancing  at  the  littered  table. 

"  It  used  to  be,  Tighe,  it  used  to  be,  afore  people  got  to 
have  the  book  larnin'  themselves  ;  but  now,  since  they've 
spiled  us  with  their  national  schools,  and  their  other  divil's 
improvements,  the  sorra  much  poor  Corny  gets  to  do.  Once 
in  a  while  I've  a  love-letther  to  write,  or  an  offer  of  marriage, 
or  the  like,  where  big  words  are  a-wantin',  but  it's  not  often  ; 
times  are  not  what  they  used  to  be  ;  "  and  the  old  man  sighed 
touchingly. 

"  Read  this,"  said  Tighe,  proffering  the  letter  which  he 
had  induced  the  simple  quartermaster  to  write  to  the  Widow 
Moore, 


I0g  CARROLL  aDONOQHUK 

**  That's  a  fine  employment  of  words,"  said  Corny,  when  he 
had  read  the  missive  slowly  and  aloud.  Then  he  turned  to 
the  superscription,  reading  that  with  the  same  attentive  leis- 
ure. 

"And  how  did  you  come  to  know  this  Mistress  Moore?" 
he  asked. 

"  The  divil  a  bit  o'  me  knew  her  at  all  till  I  heerd  the 
omadhaun  of  a  quarthermasther  make  mintion  o'  her,  thin  I 
med  a  bould  guess  at  the  rest.  Sez  I  to  mesel',  whin  I  eyed 
him  for  a  while,  an'  saw  the  hesitatin*  way  he  was  in  about 
the  writin* — sez  I  to  mesel',  '  you're  in  love  ; '  an'  faith,  Corny, 
whin  a  fellow's  in  love  there's  not  much  to  be  got  out  o'  him 
be  the  way  o'  rayson  or  common  sinse." 

Corny  nodded  an  earnest  assent 

"  I  found  that  out  be  the  masther  himsel',"  continued 
Tighe,  "  for  he  wouldn't  be  led,  nor  dhrove,  bekaise  o'  his 
love  for  a  purty  girrel,  till  he  got  himsel'  into  the  schrape  he's 
in  now.  Well,  that's  neither  here  nor  there,  but,  as  I  was  say- 
in',  I  approached  the  subjict  o'  this  tormintin'  widdy " 

"  Spake  respectful,  me  boy,  of  the  widows,"  interrupted  Mr. 
O'Toole,  "your  mother,  the  honored  Mrs.  Cannody,  is  one." 

Tighe  stifled  a  laugh  and  proceeded  : 

"  I  approached  the  subject  in  the  way  I  tould  you,  an'  to 
me  own  wondher  I  med  the  right  hit  entoirely.  But  I  wasn't 
widout  makin'  sly  inquiries,  an'  I  found  out  that  this  Mis- 
thress  Moore  is  a  young,  gay,  dashin'  widdy  that  sets  half 
o'  the  officers  be  the  ears  wid  love  o'  her  ;  sure  that  was  play- 
in'  into  me  hands  complately,  an'  if  I  can  kape  up  the  game 
long  enough  to  help  me  to  get  seein'  the  masther,  I'll  be  very 
thankful" 

"  I  see,"  answered  Corny  ;  "  well,  we  will  have  to  be  very 
careful  with  the  answer,  Tighe  ;  it  wouldn't  do  to  be  putting 
an  offer  of  marriage  in  it." 

"  Not  at  all ,  sure  that  would  be  the  decidin'  part,  an'  I 
must  kape  her  away  from  that  for  a  while.  No,  tell  him  in  a 
delicate  way  o'  the  great  and  sudden  divarsion  his  letther  gev 


THE   WIDOW'S  REPLY. 


109 


her  ;  an'  how  she'd  loike  him  to  be  very  saycret  about  the 
matther  for  the  prisent,  an'  that  he  mustn't  moind  if  she  gives 
him  could  looks,  for  it  will  be  only  for  a  while,  an'  that  her 
heart  is  burnin'  wid  thoughts  o'  him  all  the  toime  ;  an'  oh, 
Corny  ! — begorra  I  was  forgittin' — tell  him  that  she  doesn't 
want  him  to  be  makin'  delusions  to  the  letthers  in  her  prisence, 
an' " 

"You  mean  allusions,  Mr.  Carmody,**  interrupted  Mr. 
O'Toole,  pompously. 

"  You  are  right,  Corny  ;  what  wid  the  bewildherments  o* 
the  toimes  the  book  larnin'  is  gone  clane  out  o'  me  head. 
Well,  she  doesn't  want  him  to  be  makin'  allusions  to  the  letthers 
in  her  prisence — she  wants  him  to  be  spachless,  for  faith  if 
he  don't  I'll  be  discovered,  an'  iverything  will  be  spiled.  Now, 
will  you  do  that,  Corny  ?  " 

"  I  will,"  said  the  little  man,  drawing  the  writing  materiaLi 
to  him. 

"  Put  big  words  in  it,  Corny  ;  there's  nothin*  loike  thim  for 
touchin'  the  heart." 

Mr.  O'Toole  wrote  with  all  diligence,  and  soon  produced  : 

"  DEAREST  MR.  GARFIELD  : 

When  the  sentiments  of  the  female 

heart  are  touched,  the  tongue  finds  it  troublesome  and  difficult 
to  give  them  utterance.  Your  beautiful  and  noble  letter 
stirred  all  the  emotions  of  my  susceptible  nature.  The  pro- 
mulgation of  your  deliberate  affection  for  a  widowed  and  be- 
reaved youthful  female  woke  in  my  sensitive  and  flattered 
soul  responsive  echoes." 

M  Illigant  !  "  broke  in  Tighe,  clapping  his  hands,  "  illigant 
intoirely." 

"  I  accept  your  sentiments,  dear  and  noble  Mr.  Garfield,  and 
I  intend  to  cherish  them  in  all  the  recesses  of  my  desolate 
and  craving  heart.  With  suffocating  feelings  of  the  deepest 
regret,  I  beg  you  to  be  speechless  about  all  this  for  the  pres- 
ent— cruel  circumstances  compel  this  dreadful  necessity. 
Meet  me,  esteemed  and  revered  sir,  as  if  you  knew  me  not, 
for  a  little  while  ;  be  silent  about  everything,  and  after  a  few 
days  my  bursting  heart  will  be  ready  to  reveal  itself. 


J10  CARROLL  (TDONOQHUX. 

Till  then,  believe  me  as  undivided  and  undividable  as  your' 
•elf. 

THE  WIDOW  MOORE." 


"  Give  us  year  fist  Corny  !  "  said  Tighe  in  the  exuberance 
of  his  delight ;  and  he  shook  that  useful  member  of  Mr. 
O'Toole's  body  till  the  latter  gentleman  was  fain  to  beg  him 
to  desist 

"  It's  satisfactory,**  said  Corny,  trying  to  assume  an  indiffer- 
ence to  the  praise  of  his  young  friend,  but  inwardly  glowing 
with  pleasure ;  for  if  there  was  one  weakness  which  Mr. 
O'Toole  possessed,  apart  from  the  Widow  Carmody,  it  was  his 
ambition  to  gain  fame  as  an  elegant  letter-writer. 

"  An'  you  tuk  particler  pains  to  make  the  han'writin' 
small,  I  see,"  said  Tighe,  examining  the  superscription,  when  at 
length  the  letter  was  addressed,  sealed,  and  given  into  his  pos- 
session. "  It  takes  you,  Corny,  an'  begorra  it  always  tuk  you 
to  do  what  you  set  yer  moind  to.  I'm  only  surprised  at  one 
thing,  how  you  iver  missed  me  mother."  There  was  a  roguish 
twinkle  in  Tighe  a  Vohr's  eyes,  but  simple,  credulous  Corny 
did  not  perceive  it,  and  he  answered  : 

"  I  didn't  ask  her  in  time,  my  boy  ;  I  procrastinated." 

**  That  was  bad,  Corny  ;  but  kape  up  yer  heart ;  mebbe,  if 
things  turns  out  well,  I'll  be  able  mesel'  to  put  in  a  good  word 
for  you." 

Mr.  O'Toole  drew  himself  up,  and  folded  his  arms  on  his 
swelling  breast. 

"  Mr.  Carmody,  I  have  already  expressed  to  you  my  feel- 
ings on  that  tender  and  delicate  subject  ;  respect  them,  sir, 
and  do  not  force  me  to  disturb  the  emotions  of  your  mother's 
widowed  heart,  so  long  buried  in  the  grave  of  her  lamented 
husband." 

"  Faith  it's  the  could  place  you  want  her  heart  to  be  in," 
muttered  Tighe,  but  in  too  low  a  voice  for  Corny  to  hear. 
The  latter  gentleman  maintained  his  lofty  attitude,  proudly 
assuring  himself  that  his  countenance  was  expressing  at  once 


THE  WIDOW'S  REPLT.  Ill 

noble  scorn  and  heroic  resignation,  whereas  his  yellow, 
wrinkled  face  was  pursed  up  into  a  look  so  ludicrously 
affected  that  Tighe  had  to  hasten  his  adieu  lest  be 
laugh  in  the  little  man's  face. 


CHAPTER   XIY. 
CORNY  O'TOOLK. 

CAPTAIN  CRAWFORD  was  a  manly  specimen  of  the  English 
officer  ;  dashing,  genial,  fun-loving,  prone  to  good  nature, 
proud  of  his  profession,  devoted  to  his  country,  ardent,  gener- 
ous, brave,  he  won  with  little  effort  the  confidence  of  his 
superior  officers  and  the  enthusiastic  affection  of  his  men  ; 
but  no  one  of  these  praiseworthy  qualities  could  eradicate  or 
diminish  a  fierce  hatred  against  those  of  the  Irish  who  dared 
to  foster  a  thought  of  rebellion  toward  the  English  govern- 
ment ;  such  he  would  crush  with  ruthless  hand,  and  no 
measure  enforced  for  their  submission  was  too  severe  for  his 
approval.  He  hated  the  very  name  Fenian,  and  he  hailed 
with  delight  every  scheme  for  the  capture  of  the  devoted  fel- 
lows. Yet  his  purse  was  often  open  to  relieve  cases  of  des- 
titution accidentally  brought  to  his  notice,  and  his  laugh  was 
ready  and  hearty  at  any  sally  of  Irish  wit  or  exploit  of  Irish 
cunning,  even  though  the  victim  of  both  might  be  himself. 

For  Tighe  a  Vohr  he  conceived  a  peculiar  fancy ;  the  fel« 
low's  true  humor,  his  laughable  simplicity,  his  apparent  frank- 
ness, and  the  ardor  with  which  he  seemed  to  serve  his  new 
master,  all  made  the  latter  regard  him  with  something  akin  to 
affection,  and  he  was  disposed  to  treat  Tighe  with  more  than 
ordinary  favor. 

Tighe,  with  his  natural  sharpness,  divinsd  all  this  before 
he  had  served  a  fortnight  in  his  new  capacity,  and  it  required 
little  effort  on  his  part  to  act  in  a  manner  which  should  in- 
crease the  officer's  regard  for  him.  On  the  day  subsequent  to 
his  delivery  into  Mr.  Garfield's  hand  of  the  letter  written  by  Cor- 
mj  O'Toole,  and  supposed  to  come  from  the  Widow  Moor«, 


CORNY  CfTOOLK  Uj 

Tighe,  busy  in  the  officer's  privatt  apartments,  was  chuckling  to 
himself  as  he  mentally  saw  again  the  quartermaster's  expression 
of  countenance  when  he  read  that  remarkable  composition. 
Indeed,  the  soldier's  face  had  afforded  a  wonderful  study  ; 
astonishment,  perplexity,  a  mixture  of  triumph  and  pleasure, 
some  disappointment,  and  a  long,  wondering  look  at  Tighe, 
which  the  latter  endured  without  a  muscle  betraying  his  in- 
ward mirthful  convulsion,  all  had  succeeded  each  other  on  the 
countenance  of  the  astounded  and  bewildered  quartermaster. 

"  Isn't  it  to  yer  satisfaction  ? "  Tighe  had  asked  when 
the  soldier's  eyes  had  turned  from  his  face  to  the  letter  again  ; 
and  the  mystified  fellow  had  replied  : 

u  It  is,  and  it  is  not ;  I  can't  understand  it ;  it  seems  a 
strange  way  for  a  lady  to  write — so  different  from  our  Eng- 
lish girls." 

"  Yer  English  girrels  !  "  Tighe  had  burst  in  ;  "  didn't  I  tell 
you  afore  that  there  was  no  comparison  betune  thim  ?  no  more 
than  there  is  betune  a  well-bred  filly  an'  a  cantherin*  jackass. 
It's  the  slap  an'  the  dash  that  our  Irish  wimen  want,  an* 
not  the  aisy-goin'  ways  o'  yer  English  girrels" 

"  What  did  she  say  to  you  ?  "  the  befooled  quartermaster 
had  asked  ;  and  Tighe  had  answered  : 

"  Is  it  the  loike  o'  me  you'd  have  to  sthand  afore  a  lady 
ioike  her  ?  it's  aisy  to  see  you're  «ot  rightly  mannered  in  yer 
counthry ;  if  you  wor,  it's  not  such  a  question  as  that  you'd 
be  puttin*  to  me," — inwardly  exulting  as  he  saw  the  quarter- 
master bite  his  lip  ;  "  sure  I  gev  the  letther  to  the  sarvant  to 
take  to  her,  an'  she  was  out,  as  I  tould  you  afore,  but  whin  I 
wint  agin  the  sarvant  had  the  answer  ready.  An'  now  if 
you'd  loike  to  have  me  compose  another  letther  for  you ." 

"  No,"  had  been  the  decisive  reply,  "I'll  wait  awhile  first." 

"  Well,"  Tighe  had  replied,  "  whin  you're  ready,  yer  honor, 
I'm  at  yer  sarvice  ;  an'  you  nad'nt  be  afeerd  to  thrust  me,  for 
I'd  sooner  cut  the  tongue  out  o'  me  mouth  than  tell  one  word 
on  so  dacint  an*  nice-spoken  a  gintleman  as  yersel';  but  whin 
Misthress  Moore  becomes  Mrs.  Garfield,  an'  you're  happy  an* 
thrivin',  mebbe  thin  you'd  remimber  poor  Tighe  a  Vohr." 


1I4  CARROLL  CfDONOGHUS. 

And  Tighe,  as  he  now  distinctly  thought  of  all  this,  could 
hardly  restrain  an  outward  chuckle,  but  at  that  moment  Cap- 
tain Crawford  entered  the  room  with  another  officer ;  it  re- 
quired but  one  look  for  Tighe  to  recognize  in  him  the  same 
who  had  conducted  the  arrest  of  Carroll  O'Donoghue — Cap- 
tain Dennier.  He  was  not  afraid  of  recognition  by  the  cap- 
tain, being  confident  that  the  latter  had  obtained  but  passing 
glances  of  him  on  the  night  of  Carroll's  arrest,  and  he  felt  that 
his  present  dress  would  prove  an  effectual  disguise  ;  but,  in 
order  to  be  respectful,  he  passed  to  an  inner  room,  where  he 
feigned  to  be  very  busy.  Never,  however,  were  his  wits  so 
keen.  He  managed  adroitly  to  leave  the  door  between  the 
apartments  carelessly  ajar,  and  to  cause  his  duties  to  take  him 
frequently  to  the  spot.  Captain  Crawford  was  evidently  heed- 
less of  Tighe's  vicinity,  for  he  continued  a  conversation  with 
Dennier  which  seemed  to  have  been  commenced  before  their 
entrance. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  speaking  warmly,  "  Lord  Heathcote  must 
surely  give  credit  to  you  for  this  success ;  you  certainly 
have  been  quick  and  clever  about  it** 

Captain  Dennier  did  not  reply  ;  he  seemed  absorbed  in 
gloomy  thought. 

"  What  are  to  be  the  next  moves  ?  H  pursued  the  speaker, 
looking  somewhat  anxiously  into  the  face  of  his  friend. 

Captain  Dennier  replied  in  a  low  voice,  but  not  too  low  for 
Tighe's  oversharpened  hearing : 

"  Lord  Heathcote's  arrival  here  is  expected  daily,  and  this 
Mortimer  Carter,  the  same  who  has  been  supplying  informa- 
tion to  the  government  for  some  time  past,  is  here,  waiting  to 
deliver  to  his  lordship  a  valuable  paper,  a  paper  which  he  hai 
told  me  criminates  not  only  this  unfortunate  prisoner,  O'Don- 
oghue, but  which  contains  the  most  conclusive  evidence 
against  the  unhappy  wretches  who  were  arrested  the  other 
day  at  that  attack  on  the  barracks." 

That  piece  of  information  worked  strangely  on  the  eagerly 
listening  Tighe.  His  face  lengthened  itself,  and  his  eyes  grew 
in  sue  till  they  threatened  to  bunt  from  their  sockets. 


CORNY  VTOOLE.  ,,j 

*  Be  me  sowl,"  h«  said  mentally,  "  that's  ould  Morty  Car- 
ther  he  manes." 

"  Then,"  continued  the  speaker,  "  the  prisoner  will  stand 
his  trial." 

There  was  a  touch  of  sadness  in  the  last  tones  that  struck 
unpleasant'y  on  the  ear  of  Captain  Crawford.  Striking  hii 
hand  on  his  knee,  he  said  in  his  hearty  way  : 

"  Upon  my  honor,  Walter,  if  I  didn't  know  you  as  I  do,  I 
would  say  that  you  sympathized  with  those  Fenian  scoun- 
drels." 

"  No,"  was  the  reply,  "  I  love  England  too  well  to  sympa- 
thize with  any  rebellion  against  her,  but  I  cannot  help  feeling 
for  the  spirit  which  through  all  oppression  is  still  defiant. 
My  heart  quivers  at  the  sights  of  distress  I  meet  so  often,  and 
I  have  found  so  much  that  is  noble  and  kindly  in  the  Irish 
character  that  I  find  myself  often  pitying  where  previously  I 
was  wont  to  condemn." 

"  By  Jove  !  "  laughed  the  surprised,  and  yet  amused,  Cap- 
tain Crawford,  "  we  shall  have  you  transferring  your  allegiance, 
and  commanding  a  Fenian  raid  before  long ;  what  will  my 
sister  Helen  say  to  that,  I  wonder — you  were  her  model,  you 
know.  Oh,  don't  color  so,  Walter  ;  it  will  be  all  right  one 
day,  I  suppose  ;  only  one  of  her  last  counsels  to  me  was  to 
make  you  my  study.  I  wonder  if  she  would  approve  of  my 
imitating  your  conversion  to  the  side  of  the  Irish,  and  Fenian- 
ism  to  boot.  Perhaps  you  would  even  emulate  that  daring 
scoundrel,  Captain  O'Connor  ;  they  say  he  is  marvelous  in 
the  matter  of  disguises,  and  report  has  it  that  he  has  been  in 
the  very  heart  of  a  surrounded  district,  enrolling  for  this 

d d  Irish  Republic,  and  perfecting  his  plans  under  the 

very  eyes  of  the  government  officers." 

"  I  admire  his  gallantry  and  his  fealty  to  his  cause,"  replied 
Dennier  with  sparkling  eyes  ;  "  thus  far  he  has  shown  wonder- 
ful skill  and  courage,  and  doubtless,  if  his  last  bold  move- 
ment had  not  been  checked,  it  would  have  brought  more 
serious  results  to  England  than  the  scare  it  gave  her  " 


,,f  CARROLL  VDONOQHUB. 

u  Scare  ! *  repeated  Crawford,  throwing  himself  back  in 
the  chair  he  had  taken,  and  laughing  loud  and  heartily,  "  why 
the  way  those  wires  worked  sending  alarm  messages  to  head- 
quarters, and  the  manner  in  which  the  troops  were  rushed  off, 
was  enough  to  make  O'Connor  himself  laugh  when  he  heard 
of  the  commotion  he  had  created." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Denriier,  "  and  his  mirth  would  be  all  the 
heartier  if  he  knew  how  Horseford  is  taking  to  himself  the 
credit  of  having  stopped  the  rebellion  down  here." 

Crawford  straightened  himself  in  his  seat,  saying  eagerly  : 

u  Ah  !  you  probably  hold  the  opinion  about  that  that  I  do.** 

"  Perhaps  :  my  theory  is  that  the  failure  at  Chester  has  had 
more  to  do  with  the  comparative  cessation  of  the  rebellion  all 
over  Ireland  than  all  Horseford's  boasted  soldierly  skill  and 
executive  ability." 

u  You  are  right,"  answered  Crawford,  thoughtfully  ;  then, 
as  if  glad  to  change  the  subject,  he  said  with  a  sudden  altera- 
tion of  voice :  "  I  have  not  told  you  about  my  new  valet — a 
perfect  specimen." 

"  Och,  begorra  !  "  muttered  Tighe,  "  I'm  in  for  it  now  ; 
they'll  have  me  out  there  on  exhibition,  an'  mebbe  that  divil 
o'  an  officer  would  remimber  afther  all  that  he  seen  me  in 
Dhrommacohol."  Quick  as  thought  he  seized  the  blacking 
used  for  his  master's  boots,  and  smearing  different  parts  of 
his  face  with  it,  he  fell  to  polishing  the  first  shoe  he  could 
find. 

"  Tighe  !  "  called  his  master. 

Tighe  appeared  in  the  doorway,  shoe  and  brush  in  hand, 
and  his  head  hanging  down  in  well-feigned  confusion.  "  If 
you'd  be  afther  excusin'  me,  yer  honor  ;  I'm  not  persintable." 

Captain  Crawford  laughed,  and  even  Captain  Dennier's 
grave  countenance  relaxed  into  a  smile  at  sight  of  the  be- 
smeared face  surmounted  by  a  shock  of  curly  brown  hair  now 
in  tangled  disorder  from  the  frequent  running  of  Tighe's  fin- 
gers through  it. 

44  Very  well,  Tighe,  we  accept  your  apology,"  said  Captain 


CORN  7  ff TOOL  A  H7 

Crawford  ;  and  Tighe,  with  a  bow  which  he  had  learned  from 
an  itinerant  dancing  master,  and  which  provoked  another 
mirthful  burst  from  his  master,  and  a  more  animated  smile 
from  Captain  Dennier,  returned  to  the  room  he  had  left.  He 
could  hear,  even  while  he  pretended  to  be  noisily  engaged, 
Captain  Crawford  detailing  in  most  ludicrous  fashion  the  cir- 
cumstances of  his  first  meeting  with  Tighe  and  Shaun  ;  but 
although  the  captain's  own  laugh  rung  out  with  infectious  mer- 
riment, it  seemed  to  produce  little  of  the  same  effect  on  his 
companion  ;  grave,  silent,  the  latter's  thoughts  appeared  to  be 
far,  and  unpleasantly  away. 

"  Egad,  Dennier  !  "  broke  from  Captain  Crawford  at  last, 
"  you  are  a  changed  man  since  you  came  to  Ireland.  On  my 
honor,  I  shall  begin  to  surmise  that  you  are  really  contemplat- 
ing going  over  to  the  Irish." 

Captain  Dennier  smiled,  but  he  did  not  reply,  as  if  he 
deemed  the  remark  too  trifling  to  deserve  an  answer. 

"  Come,  old  fellow,"  resumed  his  companion,  "  you  were 
wont  to  give  me  your  confidence  ;  confide  in  me  now,  and  tell 
me  the  trouble." 

The  earnestness,  the  affection  in  the  tones  seemed  to  rouse 
and  to  touch  the  young  officer.  He  replied  with  unwonted 
spirit  : 

"  On  my  soul,  Harry,  I  wish  I  could  tell  you  ;  I  cannot 
even  explain  it  to  myself ;  it  is  a  nameless  something  which 
has  seemed  to  press  upon  my  spirits  from  the  moment  that  I 
set  foot  in  Ireland.  It  may  be  that  Lord  Heathcote's  manner 
to  me  has  increased  it.  You  know,  owing  to  my  absence  in 
India,  I  did  not  see  him  for  a  long  time ;  since  my  return, 
however,  our  interviews  have  been  somewhat  frequent,  and  the 
close  of  every  meeting  is  only  to  leave  me  more  discouraged, 
more  unhappy,  more  perplexed  with  myself  than  I  was  be- 
fore." 

"  And  yet,"  replied  Crawford,  "  you  have  been  the  envy  of 
half  the  titled  young  fellows  in  London,  because  of  that  very 
interest  which  Lord  Heathcote  has  always  taken  in  you.  You 
have  told  me  repeatedly  that  you  owe  everything  to  him." 


,,S  CAEROLL  VL9NOGHUK 

"  I  do  ;  the  claims  of  no  common  gratitude  bind  me  to  him, 
Of  my  birth  and  early  history  I  know  nothing  save  that  I  have 
been  told  how  both  my  parents  died  before  I  was  well  ushered 
into  the  world,  and  that  happening  to  reside  on  his  lordship's 
estate,  and  having  been  brought  to  his  notice  by  some  service 
rendered  to  him  by  my  father,  he  took  singular  compas- 
sion upon  me,  an  unclaimed  orphan,  found  a  nurse  for  me, 
caused  me  to  be  educated,  and  I  know  that  he  has  procured  for 
me  all  the  appointments  I  have  ever  held.  Thus  you  see  how 
much  his  interests  ought  to  be  mine  ;  and  they  are.  I  have 
striven  to  show  by  my  conduct  in  every  particular  that  his 
kindness  was  not  misplaced,  that  the  boy  for  whom  he  so 
nobly  provided  was  not  an  entirely  unworthy  recipient  of  his 
bounty  ;  but  his  demeanor  to  me  when  we  meet  proves  that 
he  thinks  otherwise.  His  coldness  chills  me,  his  taunts  at 
my  ill  success  sting  me,  and  I  have  often  felt  like  flinging  my 
commission  at  his  feet,  thanking  him  for  the  past,  and  betaking 
myself  to  some  far  distant  scene." 

"  No,  no,  Walter,"  said  Captain  Crawford,  "  do  nothing  so 
rash.  Wait ;  things  are  becoming  brighter ;  you  have 
achieved  success  now  in  the  capture  of  this  Australian  con- 
vict, and  his  lordship  must  at  least  in  that  recognize  your 
ability." 

"  But  that  which  harrows  my  soul  most,"  resumed  Captain 
Dennier,  "  is  a  singular  overmastering  impulse  to  love  this 
cold,  stern  man  ;  it  springs  up  at  every  sight  of  him  ;  it  haunts 
me  in  my  dreams,  and  this  is  why  I  am  such  a  puzzle  to  my- 
self." He  leaned  his  head  upon  his  hand,  and  yielded  again 
to  gloomy  and  abstracted  thought 

Tighe,  still  brushing  vigorously  at  boots  that  had  been  pol- 
ished and  repolished,  was  as  vigorously  thinking  and  plan- 
ning. 

"  I  must  foind  a  way  for  deprivin'  ould  Carther  o'  that  pa- 
per, an*  I'll  have  to  be  murtherin'  quick  about  it.  The  first 
thing'll  be  to  foind  out  where  the  ould  wretch  kapes  himsel'. 
1  haven't  seen  tail  nor  hide  o'  him  since  I  kern  here  ;  an'  thin 


CORNY  O'TOOLR  Mf 

there's  Father  Meagher,  an*  the  young  ladies  disthracted  wid 
grief  in  Dhrommacohol,  an'  waitin'  for  me  to  go  back  an'  give 
thim  news  ;  an'  there's  the  masther  himsel'  that  I  haven't 
found  the  manes  o'  communicatin'  wid  yet.  May  the 
saints  deliver  us,  but  it's  the  power  o'  business  I  have  on 
hand  ;  well,  whin  the  paper  is  got  from  ould  Carther  I'll  attind 
to  the  reel." 


CHAPTER  XV. 

CAPTAIN  CRAWFORD'S  VALET. 

ON  the  morning  succeeding  the  events  detailed  in  the  last 
chapter,  there  was  unusual  bustle  and  excitement  in  that  por- 
tion of  the  barracks  reserved  for  the  officers.  The  cause  of 
the  unusual  commotion  was  an  arrival,  and  the  blazoned  car- 
riage and  thorough-bred,  gayly-trapped  horses  gave  evidence 
of  the  wealth  and  title  of  their  owner.  Lackeys  were  in  abun- 
dance, and  the  alacrity  and  obsequiousness  with  which  the 
soldiers  who  were  lounging  about  pressed  forward  to  the  ser- 
vice of  the  solitary  occupant  showed  the  latter  to  be  more 
than  an  ordinary  commanding  officer.  He  waved  his  hand  in 
response  to  the  many  respectful  salutes  which  greeted  him  as 
he  alighted  from  his  carriage,  and  ascended  the  steps  of  the 
entrance  with  grave,  soldierly  mien.  Numerous  medals  glit- 
tered upon  his  breast,  and  his  firm,  rapid  step,  and  the  quick, 
keen  glance  which  he  threw  about  him,  bespoke  one  accus- 
tomed to  command.  An  apartment  had  been  as  sumptuously 
prepared  for  him  as  the  haste  and  exigencies  of  circumstances 
would  allow,  and  to  this  he  was  immediately  conducted. 
Having  entered  the  room,  he  turned  to  an  attendant,  saying : 
"  I  desire  to  see  Captain  Dennier — summon  him." 
The  servant  departed  on  the  errand,  and  the  officer,  di- 
vesting himself  of  his  sword  and  ornamented  hat,  threw 
himself  into  a  large  easy  chair.  His  grave,  handsome  face 
was  deeply  indented  with  lines  that  told  of  no  easy,  nor 
peaceful  life,  and  his  firm  set  mouth  evinced  the  iron  will 
which  so  often  brings  more  of  suffering  than  satisfaction  to 
i«s  possessor.  His  abundant  gray  hair,  stiff  and  strong,  as  if 
it  partook  of  the  nature  of  its  owner,  was  worn  somewhat 
(120) 


CAPTAIN  CRAWFORD'S   VALET.  ,ai 

long,  so  that  it  fell  on  the  collar  of  his  coat,  and  added 
strangely  to  an  already  remarkable  appearance. 

Captain  Dennier  was  ushered  into  the  apartment.  He  was 
somewhat  flushed,  because  of  the  haste  of  the  summons,  and 
because  of  his  own  agitated  thoughts  which  started  into  wild 
being  at  the  very  prospect  of  an  interview  with  this  man  to 
whom  he  was  so  deeply  indebted.  Yet,  withal,  he  was  so 
handsome,  so  graceful,  and  bore  himself  with  so  marked  a 
deference,  yet  a  deference  that  was  entirely  free  from  aught 
servile  or  cringing,  that  an  expression  of  pleasure  shone  for 
an  instant  in  the  cold,  stern  eyes  before  him. 

"  So  you  have  achieved  some  success  at  last — the  capture 
of  this  escaped  convict" 

The  tone  of  the  voice  was  cold,  and  the  flush  deepened  on 
the  young  captain's  cheeks.  He  bowed  in  response,  but  re- 
mained silent. 

"  I  have  come  down  here  in  great  haste,"  the  cold,  hard 
voice  resumed,  "  and  I  must  leave  again  by  noon.  Evidence 
is  pouring  in  from  all  sides  of  the  country  sufficient  to  con- 
vict every  prisoner  we  now  hold,  and  sufficient  also  to  impli- 
cate many  more  upon  whom  the  government  has  a  watch. 
Preparations  for  speedy  trials  are  making  in  Dublin,  and  it  is 
probable  that  this  Carroll  O'Donoghue  will  be  one  of  the  first 
to  be  tried.  He  is  under  very  strict  guard,  I  believe." 

Captain  Dennier  again  bowed. 

"  No  one  should  be  permitted  to  see  him.  I  understand 
that  he  has  been  one  of  the  most  daring  and  dangerous  of 
these  Fenians." 

He  paused,  and  the  young  officer,  slightly  advancing,  said  : 
*  Permit  me  to  inform  your  lordship  that  Morty  Carter  has  been 
waiting  here  a  day  or  two  to  see  you  ;  he  has  an  important 
paper  to  deliver." 

"  Morty  Carter,"  his  lordship  repeated,  "  I  have  not  time  to 
him  see  this  morning  ;  let  him  give  the  paper  into  your  keep- 
ing, and  you  can  forward  it  by  some  trusty  person  to  Dublin 
Castle." 


IM  CARROLL  VDONOQHUB. 

*  Captain  Crawford,  your  lordship,  has  received  an  order 
to  start  for  Dublin  this  evening  ;  can  I  intrust  it  to  him  ? H 

"  The  very  thing — here  !  I  will  write  an  order  for  you  to 
obtain  the  paper  from  Carter,  so  that  he  may  not  hesitate  to 
give  it  up  ;  and  if  he  should  hint  at  the  reward  he  has  been 
promised,  tell  him  that  on  the  conclusion  of  the  trials  I  shall 
make  good  my  word." 

He  repaired  to  a  little  writing  cabinet  which  stood  near,  and 
indited  the  order. 

Captain  Dennier  received  it  with  a  bow,  but  he  did  not 
turn  to  leave  the  room  as  his  lordship  evidently  expected. 
With  his  color  each  moment  increasing,  and  a  slight  agita- 
tion visible  in  his  very  grasp  of  the  paper  which  he  had  just 
received,  he  began  suddenly  : 

"  Your  lordship " 

The  nobleman  turned  shortly  from  the  cabinet  which  he 
had  been  adjusting,  and  coldly  confronted  the  speaker.  The 
opening  of  his  speech  seemed  to  have  restored  the  young 
man's  self-possession.  He  stood  erect,  every  trace  of  embar- 
rassment vanished,  and  it  was  with  his  wonted  fearless,  yet 
respectful  manner,  that  he  continued  : 

44  Something  which  has  weighed  upon  me  for  months,  and 
of  which  I  have  hesitated  to  speak,  must  at  last  be  said  now. 
I  owe  your  lordship  so  much  that  my  very  gratitude  renders 
the  subject  a  painful  one  ;  but  I  have  long  felt  that  you  are 
disappointed  in  me.  Had  another  received  the  benefits  you 
have  so  kindly  dispensed  to  me  such  an  one,  by  at  least  his 
talent  or  tact  in  the  affairs  intrusted  to  him,  would  have  re- 
paid your  bounty  ;  I  have  done  neither.  The  simple,  though 
faithful,  effort  which  I  have  made  to  perform  my  duty  is  all 
that  I  have  to  offer  in  return  for  your  patronage.  But  your 
lordship  has  evidently  expected  more  ;  and  perhaps  in  your 
kindness  you  would  still  bind  yourself  to  continue  favor  to 
one  who  has  done  so  little  to  merit  it.  I  beg  you  to  release 
yourself  from  such  an  engagement.  Feeling  my  incapacity 
to  win  renown  or  success  in  my  present  profession,  I  would 


CAPTAIN  CRAWFORD'S  VALET.  iaj 

respectfully  resign  the  commission  your  lordship  has  so  kind- 
ly procured  for  me,  and  seek  my  living  afar  from  these  scenes 
in  one  of  the  humble  walks  of  life,  never  forgetting,  however, 
your  lordship,  to  whom,  under  Providence,  I  owe  all  that  I 
am." 

Impassive,  cold,  Lord  Heathcote's  face  did  not  betray  by 
the  movement  of  a  muscle  whether  any  emotion  had  been 
awakened  by  the  appeal,  though  its  last  words  had  been 
spoken  in  a  tone  of  touching  sadness. 

"  You  claim  to  be  grateful,"  he  said  at  length,  his  stern  eyes 
fastening  more  piercingly  upon  the  young  man. 

The  latter  bowed,  and  his  lordship  continued : 

"  If  I  should  make  your  obedience  to  my  wish  the  test  of 
that  gratitude,  would  you  object  ?  " 

There  was  an  instant's  hesitation  on  the  part  of  the  young 
officer,  as  if  he  divined  what  was  coming  and  shrunk  from 
it. 

Lord  Heathcote  seemed  to  understand  the  hesitation.  He 
said  sternly  :  "  Let  your  answer  be  at  once,  sir,  full  and  tree. 
I  shall  put  my  own  interpretation  upon  it." 

The  vigor  of  his  voice,  the  severity  of  his  mien,  were  in 
some  measure  appalling.  Captain  Dennier  could  not  resist 
their  singular  influence  over  himself.  He  answered  :  "  I  make 
no  objection  to  your  lordship's  imposing  what  test  you 
please." 

"  Then,  if  you  would  prove  your  gratitude,  remain  as  you 
are." 

He  waved  him  away,  rung  for  an  attendant,  and  strode  to 
a  distant  part  of  the  room. 

It  was  with  no  enviable  feelings  that  Captain  Dennier  hur- 
ried to  his  own  apartment.  Loathing  himself  for  his  weakness 
in  yielding  where  he  had  intended  to  be  so  firm,  indignant  at 
that  very  authority  which  his  obligations  to  Lord  Heathcote 
engendered,  perplexed  -with  his  own  emotions  toward  the 
nobleman,  weary  of  his  perpetual  inward  struggle  between  his 
duty  to  his  country  and  the  sympathies  so  largely  and  strong- 


I24  CARROLL  (TDONOGHOB. 

ly  enlisted  for  a  suffering  people,  he  felt  all  the  unrest  and 
unhappiness  which  wait  upon  a  self-tormented  souL  He 
threw  himself  into  a  chair,  burying  his  throbbing,  burning 
brow  in  his  hands  ;  then  he  suddenly  remembered  his  com- 
mission to  obtain  a  certain  paper  from  Morty  Carter.  With 
a  gesture  of  impatience  and  a  face  expressive  of  his  repug- 
nance to  the  whole  matter,  he  summoned  his  servant  and  dis- 
patched him  for  Carter. 

Carter  arrived,  fawning,  smiling,  but  secretly  anxious.  With 
haughty  notice  of  him  Captain  Dennier  produced  the  order 
of  Lord  Heathcote. 

Carter  looked  disappointed.  "  I  would  rather  give  it  into 
his  lordship's  hands  ;  I  could  wait,  if  need  be,  or  follow 
him." 

"  He  does  not  desire  you  to  do  either,"  was  the  peremptory 
reply.  "  I  have  detailed  his  wishes  to  you,  and  any  reluctance 
to  obey  on  your  part  might  be  punished  by  an  instant  with- 
drawal of  his  lordship's  favor;  you  can  pursue  your  own 
course,  however,  Mr.  Carter — I  have  delivered  to  you  my 
orders." 

Morty  was  fumbling  in  his  bosom.  "  It  has  cost  me  so 
much  time  and  labor  to  get  it,"  he  said  half  apologetically, 
taking  out  the  paper  and  spreading  it  open  before  Captain 
Dennier. 

The  latter  perused  it  carefully,  reading  with  a  kind  of  shock 
the  name  of  Carroll  O'Donoghue  among  the  names  of  those 
appointed  to  important  offices  in  the  organization  of  the  Irish 
Republic.  He  looked  witheringly  at  his  visitor.  "  You  must 
have  played  a  most  treacherous  part  to  get  possession  of  so 
raluable  a  document  as  this." 

"  Every  stratagem  is  fair  in  war/'  was  the  dogged  answer, 
accompanied  by  a  look  that  only  half  veiled  the  hate  and 
fury  aroused  by  the  officer's  remark. 

"  Except  that  of  treachery,"  pursued  Captain  Dennier  with 
covert  sarcasm,  which  stung  his  listener  more  than  would  have 
done  fierce,  open  accusation.  The  latter  was  goaded  to  the 


CAPTAIN  C3AWFORV8   VALET.  ^5 

soul.  His  round,  red  face  expanded  and  reddened  still  more ; 
his  little,  winking  gray  eyes  winked  faster,  and  his  handi 
opened  and  clenched  as  if  they  would  have  clutched  venge- 
fully  at  something.  He  said  almost  savagely  : 

"  I  recognize  no  right  by  which  I  am  to  be  questioned  or 
rebuked.  Your  government  gladly  furnishes  rewards  for  any 
information  given  of  her  rebellious  subjects,  and  she  does  not 
inquire  into  the  means  by  which  such  information  is  obtained. 
I  have  yet  to  learn  by  what  right  one  of  her  officers  takes 
upon  himself  to  make  such  inquiries." 

"You  are  insolent,  sir,"  said  Captain  Dennier,  surprised 
and  indignant. 

Carter  became  suddenly  subdued,  being  not  a  little  alarmed 
for  the  effect  of  the  daring  speech  into  which  his  passion  had 
hurried  him  ;  he  answered  humbly: 

"  I  beg  pardon,  sir,  for  speaking  so  boldly,  but  I  was  cut  to 
the  quick  when  you  mentioned  treachery  ;  is  it  treachery  to 
help  the  cause  in  which  one's  sympathies  are  enlisted  ?  Eng- 
land has  given  me  no  grievances  that  I  should  need  redress  ; 
from  my  own  countrymen  have  come  the  wrongs  which  stir 
my  soul  to  vengeance." 

"  Enough  of  this  !  "  interrupted  the  officer,  disgusted  at  the 
boldness  and  unwarranted  freedom  of  the  man's  manner,  as 
well  as  at  the  infamous  part  which  the  latter  had  been  acting. 
"I  shall  give  you,"  he  continued,  " an  acknowledgement  of 
my  having  received  from  your  hand  this  paper  containing 
information  important  to  the  government,  that  you  may  show 
it  to  Lord  Heathcote." 

He  wrote  out  a  careful  receipt,  which  Carter  read  a  second 
time  to  be  certain  of  its  accuracy.  Still  he  did  not  depart. 

"  Have  you  another  remark  to  make  ? "  asked  Captain  Den- 
nier coldly. 

Carter  answered  with  something  of  the  dogged  air  which 
had  characterized  one  of  his  former  replies  : 

"  I  would  like  to  be  certain  that  Lord  Heathcote  will  not 
forget  about  the  reward  ;  this  will  prove  the  most  valuable 


Ia6  CARROLL  VDONOQHUB. 

information  I  have  given  yet,  and  his  lordship  promised  me 
that  whenever  I  should  give  information  as  important  as  the 
present  is  I  should  be  amply  compensated." 

a  Did  he  stipulate  the  amount  ?  "  asked  the  officer. 

"  Yes ;  sufficient  to  enable  me  to  purchase  the  estate  that 
used  to  belong  to  the  family  of  the  recaptured  convict,  Car- 
roll O'Donoghue  ;  it  became  so  encumbered  by  debt  that  it 
passed  from  his  possession  and  is  now  in  the  market  to  be 
sold." 

A  sickening  sensation  passed  over  the  young  captain  ;  he 
remembered  the  ancient  and  picturesque  building  which  had 
attracted  his  attention  on  the  occasion  of  his  first  visit  to 
Dhrommacohol,  and  his  inquiry  about  it,  which  had  elicited 
such  a  pathetic  response  from  Clare  O'Donoghue.  He  saw 
again  the  lonely,  unprotected  girls,  their  humble  little  abode 
within  sight  of  their  former  elegant  home,  and  he  looked  at 
the  flashy,  vulgar  Carte?  the  would-be  possessor  of  the  an- 
cient homestead  ;  it  was  with  difficulty  he  restrained  himself 
from  spurning  the  fellow. 

"  Go,"  he  said,  his  voice  slightly  quivering  with  the  scorn 
he  could  not  entirely  repress,  "  and  treat  with  Lord  Heath- 
cote  for  your  promised  reward.  He  bade  me  assure  you  that 
he  would  make  good  his  word  on  the  conclusion  of  the  trials  ; 
and  I  wish  you  " — despite  his  effort  to  the  contrary,  all 
the  contempt  which  he  felt  for  the  miscreant  became  mani- 
fest, not  alone  in  his  voice,  but  in  the  flashing  scorn  of  his 
look — "all  the  happiness  which  is  the  recompense  of  a 
traitor." 

Without  farther  adieu  he  walked  to  an  inner  room,  taking 
with  him  the  paper  Carter  had  brought,  and  closing  the  door 
between  them. 

Carter  became  purple  with  rage  ;  it  required  a  mighty  effort 
to  restrain  himself  from  giving  loud  and  profane  vent  to  his 
violent  passion.  He  waited,  however,  till  he  had  reached  the 
street,  and  was  striding  rapidly  toward  his  daily  rendezvous. 
Then  he  muttered : 


CAPTAIN  CRAWFORD' 8    VALRT. 

"  I  shall  make  him  pay  dear  yet  for  his  treatment  of  me 
this  day  ;  I  could  have  whispered  something  to  him  that 
would  have  made  him  civil  at  once  ;  but  it  wasn't  the  time, 
nor  it  won't  be  the  time  till  Carroll  O'Donoghue  is  disposed 


CHAPTER  XVt 

SHAUN   OBJECTS   TO   DUBLIK. 

THERE  was  unusual  excitement  in  Captain  Crawford*! 
apartments  ;  that  officer  in  expostulation,  entreaty,  reprimand, 
reproach,  menace,  almost  in  a  breath,  and  Tighe  a  Vohr  in 
whines,  and  wails,  and  supplications,  and  ludicrous  apostro- 
phes,— the  latter  delivered  in  comical  asides  to  imaginary  list- 
eners— could  all  be  heard  distinctly  in  the  passage  leading  to 
the  rooms,  and  Captain  Dennier,  on  his  way  thither,  paused  in 
astonishment  at  the  uproar  which  greeted  him.  When  he  en- 
tered a  curious  sight  presented  itself.  Tighe  was  on  his 
knees,  surrounded  by  hat-boxes,  opened  valises — the  contents 
of  which  were  indiscriminately  mingled  with  those  of  a  dress- 
ing-case lying  inverted  near — numerous  boots  and  shoes,  a 
full  military  equipment,  together  with  every  possession,  pri- 
vate and  personal,  of  the  gallant  captain.  He  seemed  to  be 
endeavoring  to  arrange  them  as  commodities  are  placed  in  a 
fair,  and  the  captain,  in  despair  as  to  how  his  packing  should 
ever  be  done  in  time  for  his  hasty  departure,  was  striding  up 
and  down  the  room  in  anger,  while  at  the  same  time  he  was 
forced  to  be  amused  at  the  comical  appearance  of  his  valet, 
and  more  than  all,  by  the  ludicrous  observations  of  the  latter. 
Tighe's  absurd  remarks  were  intended  to  mollify  the  officer's 
temper,  and  to  apologize  for  Tighe's  natural  awkwardness  and 
blunders  ;  and  they  were  so  extremely  ludicrous  that  the  cap- 
tain found  it  impossible  to  be  seriously  indignant. 

"  Sure  you  tould  me  to  pack  up,"  pursued  Tighe,  putting 
the  box  of  blacking  with  ferocious  haste  into  the  dressing- 
case,  and  placing  on  top  of  it  indiscriminately  brushes,  combs, 
collars  and  cuffs,  all  that  he  could  crowd  into  the  spaces  with- 
(•«*) 


8HAUN  OBJECTS  TO  DUBLIN. 

out  regard  to  adaptation  or  neatness  ;  and  as  his  master  wa» 
at  the  further  end  of  the  room,  the  performance  passed  unob- 
served. "  An'  in  Ireland,  here,"  he  continued,  working  for 
dear  life,  "  we  pack  up  be  puttin'  iverything  in  the  middle  o* 
the  flure,  jist  to  see  what  we've  got,  an'  afther  that  it's  aisier 
to  stow  thim  into  the  holes  an'  corners,  an' " 

He  was  interrupted  by  Captain  Dennier's  entrance. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  it  ?  "  asked  Captain  Crawford,  com- 
ing to  meet  him,  and  pointing  to  Tighe,  who  pretended  to  be 
too  busy  even  to  lift  his  eyes  to  the  new-comer.  "  That's  the 
way  he  is  doing  my  packing,"  continued  the  officer,  "  after 
leaving  me  in  a  pretty  lurch  beside ;  what  do  you  think — he 
positively  refuses  to  come  with  me  to  Dublin,  alleging  that 
the  climate  wouldn't  agree  with  his  dog  !  " 

"  An'  it  wouldn't,"  spoke  up  Tighe  from  the  depths  of  a 
valise  ;  "  Shaun'd  be  dead  in  a  wake — the  air'd  be  too  sthrong 
for  him." 

"  I  told  you  he  was  a  specimen,"  laughed  Captain  Crawford, 
though  he  was  really  annoyed  at  Tighe's  determined  refusal 
to  accompany  him  ;  "  and  now  I  am  in  a  pretty  fix :  I  shall 
be  obliged  to  take  some  raw  recruit  who  will  not  know  the 
first  thing  about  his  duties,  and  a  fine  mess  I  shall  be  in." 

"  How  would  this  suit  ? "  said  Captain  Dennier,  abruptly,  as 
in  that  instant  he  conceived  a  plan  for  helping  his  friend, — 
"  to  exchange  valets  ? — mine  understands  his  business  perfectly, 
and  will,  I  think,  at  my  desire  readily  transfer  his  services  to 
you  for  a  while  ;  after,  when  you  shall  have  been  suited,  he 
can  return  to  me,  and  I  shall  try  to  provide  another  place  for 
Tighe  here." 

"  The  very  thing ! "  exclaimed  Crawford  ;  "  how  bright  of 
you  to  think  of  it ;  but  are  you  sure  that  you  will  suffer  no  in- 
convenience by  Tighe's  blunders  ?  " 

Tighe  a  Vohr  ventured  to  look  up  ;  a  glance  assured  him 
that  there  was  no  danger  of  the  recognition  he  feared,  and 
growing  bold  from  that  fact,  he  rose,  and  stood  with  a  half- 
confident,  half-injured  air  before  Captain  Crawford :  *  May  I 
•pake  a  word  to  ver  honor  ?  " 


|JO  CARROLL 

u  Considering  that  you  have  been  speaking  to  me  all  the 
afternoon  without  soliciting  permission,  I  do  not  see  what  is 
to  hinder  you  now,"  was  the  laughipg  reply. 

"Well,  thin,  Captain  Crawford,  afther  sarvin'  you  as  faith- 
ful as  mesel'  an'  Shaun  done,  I  ax  you  if  it's  fair  or  honorable 
to  give  me  a  characther  loike  that  ?  If  I  blundered,  why  didn't 
you  kape  me  blunderin*  to  yersel',  for  it  was  out  o'  pure 
good  nature  that  I  blundered.  It's  a  thrue  sayin'  that  there's 
little  gratitude  in  the  world."  He  turned  away  as  if  he  were 
too  much  hurt  to  say  more. 

It  would  hardly  have  been  in  human  nature  not  to  have 
laughed  at  Tighe  a  Vohr  then — his  appearance,  his  manner, 
the  tone  in  which  he  had  spoken,  were  all  so  irresistibly  droll ; 
and  even  Captain  Dennier,  little  inclined  as  he  felt  to  mirth, 
joined  in  his  friend's  spontaneous  burst  of  merriment.  The 
latter  said,  as  soon  as  his  laughter  ceased  sufficiently  to  allow 
him  voice  : 

"  It  will  not  do  you  any  harm,  Tighe  ;  you  will  find  your 
new  master  a  very  lenient  one." 

Tighe  had  resumed  his  packing.  Both  officers  walked  to  a 
recess  formed  by  one  of  the  windows,  and  Captain  Dennier 
began  detailing  in  a  very  low  voice  the  commission  in- 
trusted to  him  by  Lord  Heathcote,  and  which  he  was  to  trans- 
fer to  Captain  Crawford  for  final  delivery  in  Dublin.  Though 
Tighe  strained  his  organs  of  hearing,  he  could  only  distinguish 
unconnected  words ;  he  fancied  he  heard  the  name  of  Carter, 
and  directly  he  saw  Captain  Dennier  pass  to  the  hand  of  his 
friend  an  envelope  out  of  which  the  latter  took  a  carefully 
folded  paper.  He  opened  and  perused  it,  then  replaced  it  in 
its  cover.  Tighe,  with  his  wonted  sharpness,  made  a  shrewd 
and  lucky  giisss  as  to  what  might  be  the  contents  of  the  doc- 
ument. "  Oh,  all  ye  howly  saints  that's  mintioned  ivery  day 
in  the  calendar,"  he  mentally  prayed,  "  help  me  now — help 
me  to  get  hould  o'  that  paper  !  " 

The  conference  of  the  captains  ended,  Dennier  left  the 
apartment  to  send  his  own  valet  to  facilitate  Tighe's  awkward 


8HAUN  OBJECTS  TO  DUBLIN.  I3i 

packing,  and  Crawford,  divesting  himself  of  his  coat  and  boots, 
threw  himself  upon  the  bed  for  a  brief  slumber  preparatory  to 
his  sudden  and  vmwished-for  journey.  Tighe's  eyes  grew  in 
size  and  shone  like  stars.  He  had  seen  his  master  deposit 
the  envelope  containing  the  all-important  paper  in  some 
pocket  about  him,  but  whether  in  the  inner  breast  pocket  of 
his  coat,  or  a  recess  closer  to  his  person,  he  was  unable  to  tell, 
With  many  a  fervent  mental  prayer,  and  with  noiseless  motion, 
that  he  might  not  disturb  the  now  soundly  sleeping  officer,  he 
seized  the  coat  and  conveyed  it  to  the  inner  room.  He  knew 
that  he  should  recognize  the  envelope  from  its  peculiarly 
shaded  color,  and  there,  as  if  the  help  he  had  invoked  had  in- 
deed been  afforded  him,  the  first  thing  he  drew  out  of  the 
breast  pocket  was  the  identical  envelope  ;  fortunately  it  was 
still  unsealed — he  could  substitute  something  for  its  contents 
which  he  was  about  to  pilfer.  Garfield's  letter  to  the  Widow 
Moore  was  carefully  placed  in  an  inner  pocket  of  his  own  ; 
he  brought  it  forth  ;  it  occupied  paper  enough  to  swell  the 
envelope  to  the  size  it  had  been  with  Carter's  document  with- 
in it,  and  disposing  it  in  place  of  the  article  which  he  now 
abstracted,  the  envelope  was  restored  to  the  pocket  from  which 
he  had  taken  it,  the  coat  returned  to  its  former  position,  and 
Tighe  himself  bent  once  more  to  his  packing,  chuckling  as  he 
thought  how  the  government  authorities,  instead  of  receiving 
the  valuable  information  they  expected,  would  be  in  posses- 
sion of  his  own  ridiculous  production  to  the  Widow  Moore. 
Still  Tighe  was  troubled  with  misgivings  ;  he  wasn't  sure  that 
it  was  the  right  paper,  after  all ;  he  was  only  depending  on 
his  own  shrewd  conjectures,  and  they  might  be  wrong  ;  then, 
also,  Captain  Crawford  might  read  the  document  again,  and 
finding  a  love  epistle  where  he  had  before  perused  valuable 
information  of  the  proposed  Irish  Republic,  he  would  instant- 
ly guess  the  perpetrator  of  the  theft  ;  and  Tighe  fairly  trem- 
bled as  he  imagined  the  consequences.  It  was  with  many  an 
anxious,  though  covert,  glance  that  he  watched  the  officer, 
when  the  latter,  having  arisen  from  his  slumber,  began  hasty 


,3,  CARROLL  VDONOGIIUB. 

preparations  for  departure,  and  every  resource  which  Tighe't 
natural  wit  and  humor  suggested  he  unintermittingly  employed 
to  divert  his  master  from  remembering  the  paper  which  had 
been  given  into  his  charge.  But  at  the  very  moment  of  de- 
parture, when  Tighe  was  shouldering  a  couple  of  valises,  and 
Captain  Dennier's  valet,  now  transferred  to  Captain  Crawford, 
was  bearing  sundry  small  boxes  to  a  vehicle  in  waiting  below, 
the  officer  said  suddenly  : 

"  By  Jove  !  I  was  forgetting  :  what  did  I  do  with  that  paper 
of  Dennier's?" 

The  valises  on  Tighe's  shoulder  required  re-adjusting  just 
then — it  became  necessary  to  remove  them  from  their  posi- 
tion, and  to  shake  and  smooth  them  out,  after  which  the  locks 
had  to  be  long  and  carefully  tried,  all  of  which  maneuvering 
elicited  no  very  gentle  expressions  from  Captain  Dennier's 
valet,  who  was  impatient  to  have  the  luggage  on  the  vehicle. 

"  Be  aisy,  man,"  said  Tighe  a  Vohr,  assuming  a  careless, 
jovial  air,  though  his  heart  was  beating  like  a  trip  hammer. 
"  Fair  an'  smooth  in  a  day  niver  lost  yit,  an'  there'll  be  toime 
when  you're  in  yer  grave,  an'  the  tip  end  o'  yer  toes  turned 
up  to  the  roots  o*  the  daisies  ;  arrah  !  have  patience  ! "  as  the 
English  servant,  now  thoroughly  provoked,  tried  to  hurry  mat- 
ters by  attempting  to  take  one  of  the  valises.  "  Do  you  think 
that  I'll  let  the  captain  run  the  risk  o'  havin'  his  thraps  spilled 
out  on  the  sthreet  afore  his  eyes,  an'  nayther  me  nor  Shaun 
there  to  help  him  ? " 

And  Tighe,  in  his  assumed  indignation,  stood  upright,  and 
ventured  to  give  a  broad  look  at  Captain  Crawford. 

That  gentleman  had  been  searching  his  pockets  in  anxious 
and  impatient  haste ;  but  now,  simultaneously  with  Tighe's 
look,  he  drew  the  envelope  forth.  Tighe  shook  so  violently 
that  he  had  to  cover  his  agitation  by  exclaiming  : 

"  Faith  I  think  it's  a  magram  *  I'm  gettin'  !  " 

Captain  Crawford  was  turning  over  the  envelope,  reading 
the  superscription, — which,  had  Tighe  been  able  to  read,  would 


SHAUN  OBJECTS  TO  DUBLIN. 


'33 


have  satisfied  his  doubts  at  once — and  soliloquizing  :  "  Yes  ; 
that's  it."  Then,  without  disturbing  the  contents,  he  sealed 
the  envelope  and  put  it  carefully  back  in  his  breast  pocket. 

Tighe's  magram  suddenly  disappeared,  and  extraordinary 
strength  and  energy  returned  to  him  ;  he  felt  as  if  he  could 
have  carried  the  barracks  on  his  back,  so  relieved  and  so 
buoyant  were  his  spirits  ;  and  it  was  with  the  very  heartiest  of 
adieus,  not,  however,  without  a  dash  of  pathetic  humor,  that 
be,  attended  by  Shaun,  saw  the  officer  finally  depart 


CHAPTER  XVTt 

TIGHK   A   VOHR'S   MOUTH-PIECE. 

RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT  !  It  was  a  knock  so  loud,  and  so  pro- 
longed, and  made  with  such  a  peculiar  tattoo  on  the  door, 
that  Moira  Moynahan  paused  in  her  work  of  sweeping  the 
kitchen  floor  in  no  little  consternation  ;  then,  chiding  herself 
for  her  cowardice,  she  went,  broom  in  hand,  to  admit  the  ap- 
plicant. Tighe  a  Vohr  with  Shaun  at  his  heels  stood  before 
her,  but  he  looked  so  unlike  himself  in  his  servant  dress  that 
even  while  she  gave  a  little  scream  of  delight,  her  look  ex- 
pressed surprise,  and  some  alarm,  at  his  changed  appearance. 

"  Don't  moind  ;  I'll  explain  it  all  to  yer  sathisf action,"  he 
said,  with  an  air  of  apology  and  a  rueful  look  at  himself,  as  he 
entered  the  house,  Shaun  closely  following  him.  "  But  first 
tell  me  how  you  are," — extending  his  hand,  and  looking  as  if 
he  would  like  to  accompany  his  inquiry  by  a  more  endearing 
token  of  his  regard. 

The  proffered  member  was  refused,  and  Moira,  drawing  back 
from  him,  put  her  apron  to  her  face,  and  began  to  rock  her 
body  to  and  fro  like  one  in  violent  grief.  Tighe  seemed 
speechless  with  astonishment ;  he  rolled  his  eyes,  scratched 
his  head,  looked  at  Shaun  (who  appeared  to  be  as  puzzled  as 
his  master),  and  at  last,  as  if  he  must  take  some  desperate 
measure,  he  approached  Moira  and  attempted  to  pull  the 
apron  from  her  face.  She  only  held  it  the  closer,  and  seemed 
to  be  crying  the  more  violently. 

"  In  the  name  o'  common  sinse,  Moira,  what  is  the  rayson 
o'  all  this  ?  if  it's  mad  wid  me  you  are  for  stayin'  away  so 
long,  why  have  it  out  at  once,  but  don't  be  actin'  in  that  out- 
landish fashion." 


TIGHE  A    VOHR'S  MOUTH-PIECE.  135 

She  dropped  her  apron  ;  to  Tighe's  renewed  surprise  not  a 
trace  of  a  tear  was  to  be  seen  ;  then  she  put  her  finger  on  her 
lip  and  shook  her  head  in  a  most  woe-begone  way. 

"  What  is  the  matther  ? "  broke  out  Tighe,  fast  losing  hi« 
temper. 

Still  her  finger  pressed  to  her  lips  and  her  sorrowful  shake 
of  the  head  was  his  only  answer. 

"  Well,  may  I  niver,  if  it  isn't  enough  to  make  a  saint 
swear  ;  here  am  I  goin'  through  thick  an'  thin  to  prove  me 
affection  for  you,  sufferin'  mesel'  to  be  dressed  up  till  there 
isn't  a  kangaroo  in  Austhralia  but'd  be  ashamed  o*  me  for  com- 
pany, an'  this  is  the  thratement  I  recave.  Moira  Moynahan, 
you're  loike  the  rest  o'  yer  sex,  a  purty  decavin'  female  that 
has  no  mortal  aim  in  life  but  to  desthroy  the  hopes  an'  the 
hearts  o'  the  innocent,  unsuspectin'  male  ginder.  Come, 
Shaun,"  looking  ruefully  at  the  dog,  "  we'll  take  lave  o'  a 
place  where  there's  no  welcome  for  us." 

Moira  sprung  after  the  animal,  throwing  herself  on  her 
knees  beside  it,  and  clasping  her  arms  around  its  neck. 

"  Tell  him,  Shaun,  that  I  can't  speak  to  him  ;  I'm  forbid- 
den by  uncle  to  receive  any  attentions  from  him  because  uncle 
says  he  drinks,  and  he  wouldn't  make  me  a  good  husband ; 
but  oh,  tell  him,  Shaun,  that  I  love  him  just  the  same." 

"  Whew !"  prolonged  and  shrill,  came  from  Tighe's  lips,  an 
ejaculation  by  which  he  intended  to  express  how  clearly  he 
now  understood  the  matter.  Then  he  called  the  dog  to  him, 
and  throwing  himself  beside  it  in  precisely  the  same  manner 
as  Moira  had  done,  he  said  : 

"  An'  tell  her,  Shaun,  that  me  love  for  her'll  niver  die — it's 
burnin'ly  on  the  incrase  ivery  minute  ;  tell  her  how  I've  her 
kapesake  yet," — releasing  his  grasp  of  the  dog  for  a  moment  to 
take  his  caubeen  from  the  chair  on  which  it  rested,  and  to 
point  triumphantly  to  the  now  somewhat  ragged,  as  well  as 
faded,  bow  at  the  side.  "  Tell  her," — putting  the  hat  down, 
and  resuming  his  embrace  of  Shaun, — "  that  I  manfully  re- 
sisted ivery  attempt  to  put  another  caubeen  on  me  head,  an' 


,^5  CARROLL  &DONOQHUB. 

tell  her  111  continue  to  resist  till  her  own  fair  fingers  will  give 
me  a  betther  remimbrance.  Tell  her  all  that,  Shaun,  an'  tell  her 
that  while  there's  life  there's  hopes,  an'  that  Father  Meagher'll 
be  brought  round  yet." 

He  turned  the  dog  about  so  that  it  faced  Moira,  and  the  lat- 
ter calling  him,  he  walked  leisurely  to  her,  his  head  down, 
and  his  tail  between  his  legs,  as  if  his  canine  dignity  was  suf- 
fering from  the  undignified  task  which  he  was  compelled  to 
perform. 

"Tell  him,  Shaun,"  answered  Moira,  squeezing  the  dog 
very  tight,  "  that  we  were  expecting  and  expecting  him  to 
come  with  news  of  Mr.  O'Donoghue,  and  that  when  he  didn't 
come,  and  Father  Meagher  found  out  they  had  taken  Mr. 
O'Donoghue  to  prison,  the  young  ladies  got  wild  with  grief; 
they  would  see  him  somehow,  or  failing  that,  they'd  comfort 
themselves  by  looking  at  his  prison  ;  so  this  very  morning 
Miss  McCarthy  and  Miss  O'Donoghue  started  with  uncle  for 
Tralee." 

Tighe  jumped  erect,  forgetting  in  his  surprise  at  the  news 
that  it  was  to  Shaun  he  must  speak  ;  he  addressed  himself 
directly  to  Moira. 

"  Thin  I  must  be  off  instantly,  an'  thry  to  overtake  thim  , 
it's  little  use  I'm  afeerd  their  journey  will  be — the  masther  ii 
too  sthrictly  guarded.  I've  been  all  this  toime  thryin*  to 
make  me  way  to  him,  an'  I  haven't  laid  eyes  on  him  yet  I 
have  only  been  able  to  foind  out  whereabouts  in  the  jail  he 

is  ;  but,  plaze  goodness "  he  was  approaching  Moira  and 

talking  eagerly  to  her,  while  she  bowed  her  face  on  the  dog, 
and  spoke  from  the  depths  of  his  hairy  neck  : 

44  Oh,  Shaun,  why  don't  he  speak  to  you,  and  not  be  trying 
to  lead  me  into  temptation  this  way  ?  he  knows  I  mustn't 
•ay  a  word  to  him." 

Tighe  stopped  short,  impatient  atid  annoyed. 

"  It's  aisy  seein'  yer  uncle  was  niver  in  love,  Moira,  or  he'd 
not  be  subjectin'  us  to  sich  cruelty  as  this."  He  whistled  to 
Shaun,  "  Tell  her,  Shaun,  that  I  have  a  docy mint  here  that 


TffiHE  A    VOER'S  MOU1H-PIBO*  ,37 

ould  Morty  Carther  intinded  to  bethray  the  masther  wid,  as 
well  as  iver  so  many  more  o'  the  boys,  an'  as  she  has  the  book 
larnin',  she'll  read  it  for  you,  Shaun,  an"  I'll  listen." 

He  put  the  paper  in  the  dog's  mouth,  and  signaled  him  to 
take  it  to  Moira.  Encircling  the  animal  with  her  arm,  she 
held  the  paper  before  him,  and  read  with  little  difficulty  all 
the  criminating  evidence  which  it  contained,  her  cheek  flush- 
ing and  her  bosom  swelling,  as  she  realized  the  dreadful  con- 
sequences which  possession  of  that  paper  by  the  English  gov- 
ernment would  bring  to  the  devoted  fellows  whose  names  it 
contained. 

"  Tatther  an*  ages,  but  that'd  be  a  clincher  for  the  ould 
scoundrel,  Morty  Carther  !  "  ejaculated  Tighe. 

The  interview  was  ended  at  last  by  mutual  protestations  of 
undying  love,  all  told  to  the  dog,  and  by  embraces  of  the  lat- 
ter, from  which  the  puzzled  animal,  who  had  never  before 
been  the  object  of  such  ardent  attention,  was  evidently  glad 
to  be  free.  Out  on  the  road,  he  recovered  his  spirits,  frisking 
by  Tighe's  side,  and  barking  with  delight  at  the  very  birds 
which  soared  far  above  him. 

44  Whisht !  for  an  unmannerly  dog  !  "  rebuked  Tighe ;  44  it's 
heavy-hearted  you  ought  to  be,  an'  not  carryin'  on  in  that 
loight  fashion,  whin  the  masther's  shut  up  widin  four  bare 
walls  an'  debarred  from  a  soight  o'  thim  he  loves  ! " 

But  Shaun  seemed  to  know  that  the  reprimand  was  given 
more  as  a  vent  to  Tighe's  own  troubled  feelings  than  as  a 
positive  injunction  which  must  be  obeyed,  and  he  continued 
his  sportive  movements  till  an  obliging  carman  gave  his  master 
and  himself  a  lengthy  lift  to  Tralee. 

Tighe's  first  anxiety  was  to  find  his  friends  who  had  started 
that  morning  from  DhrommacohoL  He  judged  that  they 
would  sojourn  at  some  hotel  in  the  town,  and  to  one  of  the 
best  of  these  he  hastened.  The  bar  was  surrounded  by  a 
group  of  idlers,  amid  the  latter  a  good  sprinkling  of  redcoats. 
All  seemed  to  be  on  fraternal  terms,  from  the  well-to-do 
farmer,  flush  with  the  success  of  a  recent  sale,  hobnobbing 


I3g  CARROLL  0DONOQHU& 

over  a  social  glass  with  a  roystering  townsman,  to  the  reduced 
Irish  gentleman  holding  animated  parley  with  one  of  the  offi- 
cers. Tighe  assumed  his  leisurely,  half-fool's  manner ;  too 
wary  to  make  open  inquiry  for  recent  arrivals,  he  hoped  to 
gain  his  information  by  his  usual  shrewdness.  A  group  com- 
posed of  sporting  men  and  officers  were  discussing  some  sub- 
ject of  the  turf  with  loud  animation.  Suddenly  one  of  the 
latter  said : 

"I  tell  you,  Garfield  is  in  sorry  plight" 

The  name  made  Tighe  pause  in  his  apparently  aimless 
gaunter. 

"  He  shouldn't  have  been  so  d d  quick,"  was  the  response 

from  one  of  the  sporting  men.  "  He  wouldn't  listen  to  a 
friend's  hint,  or  he  might  have  been  saved  his  money  and  his 
honor." 

"  Well,  he  hasn't  lost  them  yet,"  said  the  first  speaker. 

"  No  ;  but  they  are  as  good  as  lost ;  the  horse  that  he  bet 
on  has  become  disabled,  and  the  rider  that  he  engaged  has 
been  bought  up  by  the  other  side." 

"  But  he  can  enter  new  stakes." 

"  Too  late  ;  there  isn't  a  horse  in  the  county  fit  to  use  be- 
•ide  those  already  in  the  lists,  and  as  for  a  rider,  where  would 
he  look  for  one  now  ?  " 

"  How  much  has  he  bet  ?  " 

"  A  hundred  or  so,  himself  ;  but  many  of  his  friends  are  on 
his  book." 

"  Steep  for  Garfield  !  " 

M  Yes  ;  he  wouldn't  have  entered  so  strongly  but  that  that 
handsome  widow's  brother  was  to  the  fore,  and  I  fancy  Gar- 
fiel'l  wanted  to  display  a  little." 

"What !  the  Widow  Moore's  sporting  brother,  Jack?" 

"  Yes  ;  the  same  ;  and  a  scape-grace  he  is." 

"  Never  a  better  ;  and  he  is  going  to  ride  Jim  Lane's  brown 
mare ;  as  they  were  made,  they  were  matched,  for  a  greatei 
pair  of  heltering,  skeltering  vagabonds  never  existed  than 
himself  and  the  divil  of  a  mare." 


TIOHE  A    VOEB8  MOUTH-PlEUJt  139 

*  And  was  it  against  him  that  Garfield  bet  ? " 
"  Yes  ;  it  has  got  abroad  some  way  that  this  poor  fool  of  a 
quartermaster  is  dead  in  love  with  the  dashing  widow,  though 
she  only  spoke  to  him  once,  and  that  just  at  their  introduc- 
tion ;  and  though  by  reason  of  having  so  many  richer  beaux 
she  has  been  giving  him  freezing  looks  and  the  like,  it  doesn't 
seem  to  have  had  any  effect  on  the  poor  fellow.  He's  been 
haunting  her  like  a  shadow  ;  intruding  himself  everywhere 
that  he  could  do  so  without  gross  impropriety.  Her  brother, 
Jack,  always  ready  for  sport,  whether  fair,  or  foul,  got  an  ink* 
ling  of  all  this,  and  also  how  the  Englishman  was  one  of  a 
class  who  think  an  Irish  girl's  affections  are  to  be  had  for  the 
asking,  and  at  the  meeting  for  the  course  the  other  day — when 
the  stakes  were  entered,  and  the  horses  named — just  for  sport, 
and  to  show  the  soldiers  a  trifle  of  Irish  smartness,  when 
Rody  Grace's  filly  was  put  up  Jack,  who  had  already  got  the 
ear  of  Garfield  in  view  of  this  very  thing,  suggested  that  he, 
Garfield,  should  enter  the  filly,  and  that  he,  Jack,  would  fur- 
nish  the  best  rider  in  all  the  county.  Garfield  accepted, 
though  one  of  his  friends  tried  to  whisper  him  into  refusing^ 
and  immediately  the  pools  were  made.  Garfield  bet  as  I  told 
you,  to  find  himself  in  a  day  or  two  a  sadly-duped  man.  The 
rider,  Joe  Canty,  who  is  really  the  best  jockey  in  the  county, 
was  bought  up  by  the  other  side,  just  as  deceiving  Jack  Moore 
knew  he  would  be,  and  Rody  Crane's  filly  was  discovered  to 
have  taken  the  spavin.  The  bet  is  in  such  a  way  that  if  Gar- 
field  cannot  enter  another  horse  he  and  his  friends  will  lose 
their  money, — a  loss  which  I  believe  his  purse  is  ill  able  to 
sustain  at  the  present  moment — and  he  will  be  laughed  at  by 
Jack  Moore  and  all  that  roystering  set ;  and  I  fancy  that  it  is 
the  anticipation  of  the  latter  which  chafes  him  the  most." 

Tighe  had  heard  sufficient.  It  would  give  him  abundant 
thought  for  his  next  interval  of  leisure,  and  he  had  a  dim  idea 
that  he  should  be  able  to  turn  it  all  to  some  important  advan- 
tage. He  moved  on  to  the  bar,  determining  to  hazard  an 
inquiry  which  should  elicit  some  information  of  his  friends. 


I40  CARROLL 

His  garb,  proclaiming  him  to  be  the  servant  of  a  military  offi* 
cer,  was  rathe:  a  passport,  procuring  at  least  not  uncivil 
attention  from  those  with  whom  he  came  in  contact  But  the 
buxom  girl  at  the  bar,  though  she  answered  blandly  enough 
all  Tighe's  apparently  careless  questions,  imparted  no  satisfac- 
tory information,  and  Tighe  departed,  to  venture  on  the  same 
enterprise  in  the  other  hotels  of  the  town.  His  efforts  were 
as  little  successful,  and  puzzled,  and  provoked  with  himself, 
attributing  his  failure  to  his  own  "want  of  gumption,"  a 
phrase  by  which  he  expressed  his  deficiency  in  understanding, 
he  was  obliged  at  last  to  turn  his  steps  to  his  master's  quar- 
ters. 

"  Just  in  time,"  said  Captain  Dennier,  stumbling  upon 
Tighe  in  front  of  the  barracks,  and  speaking  with  a  kindlier 
tone  than  the  latter  felt  he  had  any  right  to  expect,  having 
overstayed  his  limited  leave  of  absence.  "  I  have  been  in 
search  of  some  one  to  take  this  note  for  me,"  drawing  an  em- 
bossed, neatly-directed  envelope  from  his  pocket ;  "  run  down 
with  it  now  to  Blenner's  and  give  it  to  the  Reverend  Mr. 
Meagher,  and  wait  for  an  answer." 

Tighe's  whole  face  underwent  so  sudden  and  marked  a 
change,  intense  pleasure  showing  in  every  lineament,  that  if 
he  had  not  pretended  to  be  very  busy  placing  the  note  safely 
away,  the  officer  must  have  remarked  him.  He  knew  the 
Reverend  Mr.  Meagher  meant  none  other  than  Father  Mea- 
gher, and  Blenner's  was  one  of  the  very  hotels  which  had  fig- 
ured in  his  own  fruitless  search.  It  required  but  little  time  to 
reach  again  the  bar,  Shaun  accompanying  him,  at  which  he 
had  so  recently  stood,  and  it  was  with  a  very  important  air, 
arising  from  the  consciousness  of  the  legitimacy  of  his 
errand,  that  he  delivered  himself  this  time  of  no  covert  ques- 
tion, but  an  open  inquiry  for  the  worthy  priest.  His  ques- 
tion being  accompanied  by  the  remark  that  he  bore  a  note 

from  Captain  Dennier,  of  her  Majesty's Regiment,  won 

for  him  immediate  and  respectful  attention.  He  was  shown 
to  the  parlor  to  wait  for  the  reverend  gentleman,  while  Shaun 


TIQHS  A   YOHR8  MOUTH-PIEOR  141 

to  bis  own  disappointment  and  that  of  his  master,  was  detain- 
ed below. 

father  Meagher  was  not  prepared  to  meet  Tighe  a  Vohr, 
and  still  less  prepared  to  see  him  in  his  present  dress.  His 
start  of  astonishment,  and  then  his  look  of  comical  bewilder- 
ment as  his  eyes  wandered  from  Tighe's  curly  brown  head 
down  to  his  topped  boots,  and  slowly  back  again,  made  Tighe 
smile,  though  he  affected  to  hang  his  head  in  some  confusion. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  ? "  said  the  clergyman  at  last, 
recovering  from  his  surprise,  and  advancing  to  his  visitor. 

"  Jist  this,  yer  riverince," — and  Tighe,  bowing,  handed  him 
Captain  Dennier's  note. 

The  priest's  face  lit  with  a  smile  of  satisfaction  as  he  read, 
and  he  exclaimed  when  he  had  finished  : 

"  Ah  !  he  will  see  me,  and  he  desires  me  to  appoint  the 
hour  of  my  coming.  He  is  truly  the  gentleman." 

He  turned  to  Tighe  :  "  Pray  tell  me  how  you  have  come  to 
be  Captain  Dennier's  messenger." 

Tighe  made  sundry  maneuvers  before  he  answered  ;  walk- 
ing the  whole  round  of  the  room — which  contained  only  the 
priest  and  himself — to  be  sure  that  there  were  no  eavesdrop- 
pers, placing  his  hand  over  his  mouth  to  shut  in  the  sound  of 
his  voice,  and  rolling  his  eyes  about,  to  be  certain  that  no  one 
could  enter  unperceived.  Then  he  whispered  to  the  clergy- 
man a  brief  account  of  the  events  which  had  brought  him  to 
his  present  position. 

"  And  you  have  in  your  possession  now  the  paper  contain- 
ing information  that  Mortimer  Carter  gave  to  Captain  Den- 
nier  ? "  said  the  astonished  and  delighted  priest. 

u  I  have,  yer  riverince,  an'  glad  enough  I  am  to  surrinder 
it  into  yer  kapin', — "  drawing  forth  the  document.  "  Sure  I  got 
lave  o'  absence,  as  the  soldiers  say,  an'  I  wint  all  the  way  to 
Dhrommacohol  to  give  it  to  you,  an'  to  tell  the  result  o'  all 
me  thrials  to  see  the  masther.  You  wor  from  home,  an*  Moira 
wouldn't  spake  to  me." 

"  Wouldn't  speak  to  you  !  " — uttered  in  a  tone  of  hearty  §ur- 
prise.  "Why  not?" 


,4,  CARROLL  (TDONOOHUE. 

u  I  think  yer  riverince  knows  the  rayson — the  ordher  kena 
from  yersel'."  And  Tighe  looked  down  in  well-affected  shy- 
ness. 

The  priest  seemed  puzzled  for  an  instant  ;  then  it  flashed 
upon  him — the  injunction  he  haJ.  given  his  niece  regarding 
Tighe  a  Vohr ;  but  he  had  not  intended  to  impose  such  an 
absolute  silence  as  Tighe  reported.  He  was  pleased,  how- 
ever, with  her  obedience,  and  di -.posed  on  that  account,  as 
well  as  on  account  of  Tighe's  own  faithful  efforts  in  behalf  of 
the  prisoner,  to  treat  him  with  moi  i  than  usual  favor. 

He  shook  Tighe  a  Vohr's  hand  :  "  You  have  done  an  ines- 
timable service  to  our  poor  boy,  as  well  as  to  the  other  poor 
fellows  ;  none  of  us  shall  forget  tf  for  you  ;  and  now  the 
young  ladies  must  see  you,  and  hear  tiiis  ;  it  will  gladden  their 
sad  hearts.  I  shall  ring  for  them." 

He  did  so,  and  they  came  in  arm  in  arm,  both  paler  than 
they  had  ever  looked  to  Tighe  before,  and  both  showing  in 
every  lineament  of  their  fair  faces  su'-Yi  painful  evidence  of  a 
wearing  grief  that  it  almost  broke  the  faithful  fellow's  heart  to 
see  it.  They  brightened  when  they  .saw  him  ;  somehow  his 
very  presence  inspired  hope,  and  tht,agh  like  the  priest  they 
were  surprised  at  his  garb,  their  gref  ting  was  none  the  less 
warm  and  delighted.  Again  and  again  they  wrung  his  hands, 
asking  eagerly  a  dozen  questions,  and  looking  as  if  they  could 
cry  for  very  joy  when  they  heard  of  his  success  in  obtaining 
the  paper.  How  long  the  scene,  with  i^s  pleasant  and  painful 
circumstances,  might  have  continued  not  one  of  the  little 
party  could  tell,  but  it  was  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  some 
of  the  guests  of  the  hotel. 

The  clergyman  said  in  a  low  tone  :  "  I  was  advised  by  a 
friend  to  see  Captain  Dennier  when  ve  came  up  here,  and 
told  that  the  captain  was  a  perfect  genfleman  and,  moreover, 
was  the  intimate  friend  of  the  governor  of  the  jail  ;  as  such, 
should  he  be  disposed,  he  could  aid  v.s  to  an  interview  with 
Carroll.  Accordingly,  I  sought  the  officer  on  our  arrival  this 
morning,  but  he  was  not  in  the  barracks  at  the  time,  and  I 


TIG  RE  A    TOHICS  MOUTH-PIECE. 


»43 


left  a  note  for  him,  stating  that  I  had  called  on  important  busi- 
ness and  would  like  to  see  him  ;  he  answers  like  the  gentle- 
man that,  he  is  reported  to  be,  in  a  very  courteous  strain,  plac- 
ing himself  at  my  service,  and  desiring  to  know  when  I  can 
repeat  my  visit." 

Tighe  shook  his  head  ominously  :  "  I'm  afeerd  it'll  be  very 
hard  to  see  the  young  masther  ;  from  all  I  can  larn  on  ivery 
side  he's  under  wonderful  sthrict  guard,  an'  not  one  at  all 
that's  suspected  o'  frindly  intintions'll  be  allowed  nixt  or 
near  him  ;  they  say  that  order  kem  from  the  highest  quar- 
thers.  But " — and  Tighe  lowered  his  voice  still  more,  and 
directed  an  earnest  glance  to  Nora,  whose  attention  was  so 
eager  that  she  was  listening  with  parted  lips  and  bated  breath 
— "  the  captain  is  a  bosom  frind  o'  the  governor  o'  the  jail, 
an'  it  would  be  aisy  enough  for  him  to  spake  in  yer  favor,  an' 
get  the  intherview  that  way." 

The  priest's  face  brightened.  "  Well,"  he  replied,  "  I  shall 
answer  Captain  Dennier's  note  immediately,  and  perhaps 
something  hopeful  will  come  of  my  seeing  him." 

He  turned  to  leave  the  parlor  ;  Tighe  and  Nora  began  a 
low,  earnest  conversation,  but  Clare  followed  him.  "  Father," — 
stopping  him  in  the  corridor — "  state  in  your  answer  that  you 
will  be  accompanied  by  Nora  and  myself." 

The  clergyman  stared  aghast. 

"  I  mean  it,  father  ;  my  heart  misgives  me  since  Tighe 
spoke  of  Carroll's  strict  guard,  and  should  it  be  in  Captain 
Dennier's  power  to  procure  for  us  an  interview  with  my 
brother,  his  fine  sense  of  honor  " — there  was  a  dash  of  sar- 
casm in  her  voice — "  might  make  him  refuse  ;  but  perhaps 
when  Nora  and  myself  unite  in  petitioning  him,  perhaps,  when 
he  sees  us  both  so  deeply  sunk  in  grief,  even  he,  high  princi- 
pled as  he  is, — "  again  the  sarcasm  which  she  could  not  con- 
trol was  in  her  voice —  "  may  not  think  it  dishonorable  to 
afford  some  consolation  to  two  breaking  hearts." 

The  tender-hearted  priest,  surprised  and  pained  at  her 
proposition,  and  embarrassed  also  at  the  thought  of  bringing 


m**  CARROLL  VDONOGHU*. 

*^W 

ladies  within  the  precincts  of  the  barracks,  yet  could  not  find 
it  in  his  heart  to  refuse  her  ;  he  turned  awav,  his  silence 
yielding  the  assent  she  craved. 

In  a  few  minutes  Tighe  had  the  answer,  and  having  called 
for  Shaun,  whose  frequent  bark  had  attested  his  impatience 
for  his  master's  return,  he  was  hastening  back  to  the  soldiers' 
quarters. 


CHAPTER  XVIIL 
CARTER'S  INSINUATIONS. 

CAPTAIN  DENNIER  flushed  until  the  scarlet  was  visible  o» 
his  forehead  when  he  read  the  reply  brought  by  his  valet, 
»nd  yet,  despite  the  repugnance  which  he  strove  to  feel  toward 
the  proposed  interview,  and  his  anxiety  lest  this  unusual  visit 
of  ladies  to  his  quarters  would  provoke  unpleasant  comment, 
he  felt  a  throb  of  pleasure.  Clare  O'Donoghue's  bright  face 
rose  before  him,  as  it  often  did  since  his  first  look  at  her  win- 
some features  ;  the  remembrance  of  her  candor,  her  enthusi- 
astic spirit,  thrilled  him  as  they  had  done  on  the  occasion  of 
their  first  meeting  ;  and  he  felt  tempted  to  curse  the  fate 
which  had  not  made  him  Irish,  and  an  Irish  patriot.  With 
nervous  impatience  he  awaited  their  arrival,  ordering  that 
they  should  be  shown  at  once  to  a  room  in  a  retired  part  of 
the  barracks,  the  only  one  whose  appearance  indicated  less 
military  precision  than  the  other  apartments.  He  suspected 
that  their  visit  was  to  obtain  from  him  information  of  the 
prisoner,  but  he  did  not  dream  that  the  interview  before  its 
close  was  to  be  marked  by  a  harrowing  scene. 

The  visit  to  the  barracks  of  the  clergyman  and  two  ladies 
deeply  veiled,  but  showing  in  their  plain  tasteful  dress  and 
their  deportment  an  elegance  of  breeding  and  a  captivating 
modesty,  and  that  visit  paid  to  the  reserved  and  stern  Captain 
Dennier,  was  the  subject  of  wondering  comment  among  the 
soldiers.  Some  of  them  waylaid  Tighe  to  know  the  import  of 
the  visit ;  but  Tighe  had  his  answer  :  "  We  Hirish,"  he  said, 
imitating  the  cockney  accent  of  the  soldier  who  questioned 
him,  "  haven't  the  curiosity  o'  you  Hinglish  to  know  the  busi- 
ness o'  our  betthers ;  how  do  I  know  the  company  that  th 
(MS) 


,46  CARROLL  VDONOGmTE. 

captain's  recavin'  at  the  prisint  moment  ?  you'd  betther  ask 
himsel'  for  information." 

Captain  Dennier  met  his  visitors  with  the  most  graceful  and 
courteous  of  greetings  ;  just  a  trifle  of  embarrassment  ap- 
peared in  his  heightened  color,  as  Clare  O'Donoghue  threw 
aside  her  veil,  and  bent  upon  him  one  of  her  bright  piercing 
looks. 

Father  Meagher  came  at  once  to  the  object  of  the  visit 
— would  Captain  Dennier  kindly  aid  them  to  an  interview 
with  the  prisoner  ?  The  officer  started  ;  in  all  that  he  had 
surmised  no  suspicion  of  such  a  favor  being  craved  crossed 
his  mind.  Being  the  friend  and  confidant  as  he  was 
of  the  governor  of  the  jail,  a  scratch  of  his  pen  to  that 
official  requesting  permission  for  a  visit  of  friends  to  the 
Fenian  prisoner  would  have  been  sufficient  to  secure  an  in- 
stant consent  :  but  such  a  proceeding  would  be  an  utter  viola- 
tion of  that  principle  of  duty  which  the  young  officer  held  to 
be  dearer  than  life.  His  silence,  his  painful  embarrassment, 
spoke  too  well  the  refusal  that  for  the  moment  he  was  unable 
to  utter. 

"  Captain  Dennier,  could  you,  if  you  would,"  asked  Clare's 
trembling  voice,  "  help  us  to  obtain  this  favor  ?  " 

"I  could,"  he  responded,  without  looking  at  her. 

"  Then  may  I  beg," — before  he  could  realize  or  prevent  what 
she  was  about  to  do,  she  had  thrown  herself  on  her  knees  be- 
fore him,  and  burst  into  so  passionate  and  piteous  an  appeal 
to  be  afforded  one  sight  of  her  brother  that  the  officer  was 
well-nigh  maddened  by  the  conflict  which  compassion  for  her 
touching  distress,  and  his  own  iron  determination  to  do  his 
duty  at  whatever  cost,  aroused  within  him.  "  The  prayers 
and  the  blessings  of  two  orphan  girls  will  follow  you  !  "  she 
continued,  with  her  clasped  hands  raised  toward  him,  and  her 
lovely  eyes  streaming  with  the  tears  she  could  no  longer  re- 
strain. Her  action  had  been  so  sudden  and  so  unexpected 
that  neither  Father  Meagher  nor  Nora  had  been  prepared  for 
it,  and  now  both  stood  as  if  paralyzed  by  the  shock  of  hei 


CARTERS  INSINUATIONS.  147 

proceeding.  "  Help  me,  Nora,"  she  still  continued,  "  plead 
with  me  to  this  man,  whose  heart  is  so  hard  to  touch." 

"Rise,  I  beg  you,  Miss  O'Donoghue,"  the  officer  at  last 
found  voice  to  say,  and  he  bent  to  assist  her  ;  by  this  time 
also,  Father  Meagher  was  soliciting  her  with  his  tender  en- 
treaty, and  Nora  was  supporting  her  with  her  trembling  clasp. 

"  Say  that  you  will  help  us  to  one  brief  interview  with  him." 

The  captain  was  desperate  ;  how  he  wished  that  he  had  re- 
signed his  commission  as  he  had  intended  to  do  on  the  occa- 
sion of  his  last  interview  with  Lord  Heathcote, — he  would  not 
then  be  in  this  wretched  strait.  With  an  effort  which  sent 
the  hot  blood  surging  madly  into  his  face  and  then  caused  it 
to  recede  as  suddenly,  leaving  him  white  to  the  lips,  he  said 
in  a  voice  that  trembled  painfully,  despite  all  his  efforts  to 
make  it  calm  : 

"  I  am  harrowed  to  the  soul,  Miss  O'Donoghue  ;  I  would 
give  my  life  to  be  able  to  answer  as  you  desire  me  to  do,  but 
my  duty,  my  honor,  my  principles  forbid  it.  I  will  give  you 
what  information  of  your  brother  it  is  in  my  power  to  give, — 
the  probable  time  and  whereabouts  of  his  trial — but  to  assist 
you  to  an  interview  with  him  is  impossible — I  must  refuse  to 
interfere."  He  turned  sadly  away. 

Clare  would  have  made  another  effort,  but  Father  Meagher 
detained  her.  "  Control  yourself,  my  dear  child,"  he  whis- 
pered ;  "  we  cannot  move  him  ;  and  nothing  remains  but  to 
obtain  the  information  of  which  he  speaks." 

He  left  her  and  sought  the  captain,  who  stood  at  a  little  dis- 
tance from  the  party,  his  head  bowed,  and  his  eyes  moodily 
seeking  the  floor. 

"  I  thank  you,  sir,"  the  priest  began  gently,  "  for  your  evi- 
dent commiseration  of  that  poor  girl,  and  I  regret  that  we 
have  put  your  devotion  to  duty  to  such  a  painful  test ;  but 
perchance  the  information  of  which  you  speak  may  be  some 
balm  to  our  suffering  and  anxious  hearts." 

The  young  man,  in  gratitude  for  words  which  seemed  to 
•ay  that  at  least  one  understood  him,  and  had  divined  the  un- 


,4j  CARROLL  &DONOQHUB. 

happy  conflict  waging  within  him,  extended  his  hand  to  th« 
clergyman,  and  with  an  admirable  air  of  candor  answered  : 
" 1  thank  you  from  my  soul,  reverend  sir,  for  what  you  have 
said  ;  you  have  taken  some  of  the  bitterness  out  of  that  cup 
which  it  is  my  fate  constantly  to  drink,  and  you  give  me  hope 
tha't  in  a  more  peaceful  time  I  may  be  better  understood  and 
better  judged  by  one  who  now  regards  me  as  the  most  stern- 
hearted  of  my  sex.  With  regard  to  the  information  you  ask, 
I  can  say  this  much  :  it  is  more  than  probable  that  Mr.  O'Don- 
oghue  will  be  detained  here  a  month,  at  the  end  of  which  time, 
if  he  is  not  sent  on  to  Dublin,  his  trial  will  take  place  here." 

Father  Meagher  bowed  and  thanked  him,  and  returned  to 
his  fair  charges,  both  of  whom  were  once  more  heavily  veiled. 
Captain  Dennier  accompanied  them  to  the  limits  of  the  offi- 
cers' quarters.  With  a  wild  wish  for  some  sign  which  might 
tell  him  that  Clare's  feelings  toward  him  were  not  entirely 
those  of  aversion,  he  ventured  to  walk  beside  her  as  they 
neared  the  arched  passage  in  which  he  would  make  his 
adieus  ;  but  she  did  not  give  him  the  slightest  mark  of  notice. 
Disappointed  and  saddened,  he  still  found  opportunity  to 
whisper  when  he  had  taken  leave  of  Father  Meagher  and 
Nora  :  "  The  day  may  come — and  I  shall  pray  for  its  dawn — 
in  which  I  shall  be  able  to  show  you  how  bitterly,  how  cruelly 
you  wrong  me."  Could  he  have  penetrated  the  thickness  of 
her  veil,  nay,  more,  could  he  for  one  instant  have  read  the 
depths  of  her  heart,  he  would  have  been  entirely  comforted, 
for  the  latter  was  strangely  touched — touched  far  more  than 
its  owner  would  admit  to  herself,  and  she  thanked  the  friend- 
ly screen  which  concealed  the  sudden  rush  of  tell-tale 
color  to  her  face. 

Tighe  a  Vohr,  with  his  wonted  shrewdness,  was  in  timely 
waiting,  and  to  him  Captain  Dennier  resigned  his  visitors  for 
further  guidance  from  the  barracks. 

14  Is  it  succiss  ? "  whispered  the  eager  fellow,  when  he  could 
ask  the  question  without  fear  of  being  overheard. 

"  No^  Tighe,"  answered  Father  Meagher,  "  it  is  not ;  wt 


CARTERS  INBINUATIONa.  j49 

have  gained  nothing  by  our  visit  but  the  information  that 
Carroll  is  to  be  kept  here  a  month,  and  perhaps  will  stand  hi* 
trial  here." 

"A  month  !  "  repeated  Tighe,  "be  the  powers  ! — axin'  yer 
riverince's  pardon  for  swearin' — but  mebbe  I  could  fix  the 
matther.  Howld  awhile,  an'  let  me  conjecther — faith  !  I 
think  I  have  it.  Go  back  to  Dhrommacohol,  but  kape  yer- 
sel's  in  readiness  to  return  any  minute." 

"  What  is  it,  Tighe  ;  what  have  you  planned  ? "  asked  the 
ladies  in  a  breath. 

"  Don't  ax  me  to  tell,  fer  I  haven't  it  quite  sthraight  in  me 
own  moind  yet,  an'  mebbe  I  won't  be  succissful." 

"  You  are  plotting  nothing  wrong,  I  hope — no  sinful  means, 
Tighe  ? "  said  the  priest  a  little  anxiously,  well  knowing  that 
Tighe  a  Vohr's  affection  for  his  young  master  would  impel 
him  almost  to  any  commission  for  that  master's  benefit 

"  Now,  Father  Meagher,  can't  you  thrust  me  sometoime,  an' 
not  always  be  thinkin'  I'm  a  rascal  ?" 

He  spoke  with  so  ludicrous  an  air  of  injured  innocence 
that,  despite  their  heavy  hearts,  they  were  forced  to  smile. 

Having  accompanied  the  little  party  as  far  as  his  instruc- 
tions warranted,  Tighe  took  a  respectful  leave,  and  with  a 
very  thoughtful,  important  air  turned  his  steps  to  the  part  of 
the  barracks  where  he  hoped  to  meet  Garfield.  He  had  rather 
avoided  the  quartermaster  since  the  latter's  refusal  to  allow 
him  to  indite  another  love-letter,  and  it  was  with  no  little 
anxiety  that  he  determined  on  a  meeting  now.  He  knew  not 
how  far  his  deception  relative  to  the  letters  might  have  been 
discovered,  in  case  it  had  been  discovered  at  all,  but  he  re- 
solved to  trust  to  his  natural  wit  should  he  find  himself  in 
difficulty.  He  came  suddenly  upon  the  quartermaster,  who 
was  standing  apparently  watching  a  group  of  soldiers  engaged 
in  card-playing ;  but  his  heavy  face  betrayed  by  its  expression 
that  his  thoughts  were  not  those  engendered  by  the  scene  be- 
fore him.  His  knitted  brow,  giving  evidence  of  unpleasant 
reflections  and  his  thick-set  underlip,  gave  a  dogged  and 
repulsive  look  to  features  otherwise  not  ill-formed. 


,50  CARROLL  &DONOGHUR. 

"  Could  I  hev  a  private  word  wid  yer  honor  ?"  Tighe  whi»« 
pered  to  him. 

The  quartermaster  scowled  for  a  moment,  but  reading  in 
the  expressive  sparkle  of  Tighe  a  Vohr's  eyes  that  something 
of  importance  lay  behind  the  request,  he  led  the  way  to  his 
own  apartment.  Tighe  affected  great  secrecy,  whispering 
with  both  hands  to  his  mouth,  and  the  latter  very  close  to 
Garfield's  ear  : 

"  I  undherstand  that  yer  honor's  in  throuble  be  rayson  o' 
the  bet  you  med  on  Rody  Crane's  filly  the  other  day." 

The  quartermaster  seemed  to  be  astonished. 

"  You  see,  yer  honor,  I  heerd  all  about  it  to-day,  an'  I  sez 
to  mesel' :  it's  a  burnin*  shame  to  let  a  rale  nice  spoken  gintle- 
man  loike  Mr.  Garfield  be  put  down  an'  taken  clane  in  be 
such  a  set  o'  rogues  as  Jack  Moore  an'  the  b'ys  that's  wid  him. 
So  I  think  I  can  foind  a  way  to  help  yer  honor.  If  yer  had 
another  horse  to  inter,  an'  a  rider  for  him,  would  it  make  it 
all  right  ? " 

"  It  would  ;  but  where  is  another  horse  to  be  had  ?  I've 
scoured  the  county  for  one,  but  it's  no  use  ;  and  the  rider — 
that  is  as  difficult  to  find  in  this  cursed  county." 

Tighe  gave  a  knowing  and  expressive  wink.  "  Lave  it  to 
me,  Mr.  Garfield,  for  purvidin'  you  wid  a  horse,  an'  a  rider, 
too,  an*  the  divil  a  betther  animal  in  the  county  than  the  one 
I'll  get  unless  I'm  onsuccissful  intoirely.  Didn't  I  make 
good  me  word  afore — didn't  I  tell  you  I'd  write  a  letther  for 
you  as'd  bring  you  an  answer — an'  didn't  I  do  it — I  ax  yer 
honor,  didn't  I  do  it  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  so  far  as  bringing  me  an  answer  was  concerned  ; 
but  that  is  all  that  has  come  of  it.  The  widow  continues  the 
silence  and  the  coldness  which  in  her  letter  she  besought  me 
to  maintain.  Really,  if  it  was  not  her  express  wish,  I  should 
demand  at  once  if  my  letter  had  offended  her." 

"  Do  not,"  said  Tighe,  in  frantic  earnestness,  his  very  soul 
In  terror  for  the  possible  consequences  to  himself  of  such  a 
proceeding.  *  I'll  tell  you  a  bit  o'  a  saycret  :  she  has  a  scape- 


CARTERS  INSINUATIONS.  151 

grace  o'  a  brother,  Jack  Moore,  as  wild  a  clivil  as  iver  led  in  a 
steeplechase  or  danced  in  a  fair,  an'  wid  all  his  wild  ways  she 
jist  thinks  the  loike  o'  him  niver  was  seen,  an'  she's  afeerd  to 
displase  him  in  one  mortal  thing  ;  well,  for  some  rayson  or 
other,  he  doesn't  loike  you,  an  he'd  be  death  on  his  sister  if 
he  thought  she'd  as  much  as  give  you  one  sweet  look.  Now 
I  have  good  cause  to  know  that  the  same  lady  does  loike  you, 
an'  she  loikes  you  betther  for  the  way  you're  actin'  at  the  prisent 
toime,  makin'  yersel'  agreeable  to  her  wishes.  Do  you  see  now  ; 
do  you  comprehind  intoirely  all  I'm  sayin'  to  you  ? "  asked 
Tighe  with  much  the  same  manner  and  voice  he  might  have 
used  to  Shaun. 

The  dazed  Englishman  nodded  ;  he  was  too  mystified  to 
know  whether  he  ought  to  be  pleased,  or  angry,  or  puzzled,  or 
all  three  together. 

"Well,  thin,  this  same  Jack  Moore  wouldn't  care  if  he 
desthroyed  you  this  noight,  the  villain,  an'  it's  a  laughin'  stock 
he  wants  to  make  o'  you,  as  well  as  to  win  yer  money  ;  but  if 
you'll  abide  be  me  directions,  I  think  we'll  defate  him,  the 
thafe  o'  the  world.  Tell  me  now,  will  you  do  jist  as  I  say  ? " 

The  mystified  Englishman  again  nodded. 

"  Well,  promise  me  that  you  won't  be  obthrudin'  yersel'  on 
the  widdy's  notice,  that  you  won't  go  nixt  nor  nigh  where  she 
is  till  the  race  is  over.  Will  you  promise  that  ? " 

A  third  time  the  bewildered  Englishman  nodded. 

Tighe  gave  a  grunt  of  satisfaction.  "  Now  tell  me  how 
many  days  afore  the  lists  will  be  closed  ;  I  mane  whin  would 
it  be  too  late  for  you  to  inter  the  name  o'  a  horse  in  the  place 
o'  Rody  Crane's  filly  ?  " 

"  The  day  after  to-morrow,"  replied  the  soldier,  at  last 
seeming  to  arouse  to  a  correct  uaderstanding  of  the  case. 

"  That's  short  toime,"  said  Tighe,  "  but  how  and  iver  we'll 
thry.  And  now," — changing  his  voice  from  its  tone  of  author- 
ity to  one  of  humble  entreaty — "  mebbe  yer  honor  wouldn't  re- 
fuse me  a  bit  o'  a  favor.  I'll  not  ax  it  till  afther  I've  secured 
the  horse  an'  the  rider." 


,5a  CARROLL  VDONOGHUB. 

"  What  is  it,  Mr.  Carmody  ?  "  asked  the  quartermaster. 

"  It's  to  get  a  pass  for  me,  some  way,  that'll  admit  three  peo- 
ple into  the  jail  to  see  that  poor  prisoner  that  was  brought  up 
here  from  Dhrommacohol  the  other  noight.  They're  frindi 
o'  his,  an'  two  o'  thim  the  puniest  ladies  you  iver  laid  eyei 
on, — me  heart  ached  intoirely  whin  I  seen  the  grief  they  wor 
in  bekaise  they  wouldn't  be  let  to  see  him.  Now,  Mr.  Gar- 
field,  I'll  put  it  to  yersel' :  if  it  was  yer  own  case  an'  the  Widdy 
Moore  was  breakin'  her  heart  to  see  you,  wouldn't  you  be 
thankful,  yer  honor,  wouldn't  the  sintimints  o'  yer  heart  rise 
in  gratitude  to  the  one  that  would  bring  her  to  visit  you  in 
yer  lonely  cell  ?  " 

That  appeal  did  touch  a  tender  spot  in  the  quartermaster's 
bosom ;  imagination  pictured  the  fair  Mistress  Moore  paying 
him  such  a  visit,  and  for  the  bliss  of  that  he  would  have  been 
willing  to  endure  the  dreariest  confinement.  He  was  evi- 
dently softened,  and  he  answered  kindly  : 

"  Perhaps  I  can  manage  it.  One  of  the  officials  of  the  prison 
is  a  warm  friend  of  mine,  and  if  the  visit  be  made  at  night, 
and  be  kept  quite  secret,  I  think  it  can  be  arranged.  But  the 
visit  must  be  made  at  night,  and  be  kept  entirely  secret." 

M  Any  perdition  at  all'll  be  agreed  to,"  said  Tighe,  meaning 
condition,  and  gleaning  from  the  soldier's  stare  that  he  had 
made  an  error  of  speech  ;  but  without  attempting  to  correct  it 
he  continued  :  "  An'  now  I'll  be  takin'  me  lave,  Mr.  Garfield, 
but  you'll  see  me  to-morrow  noight,  an'  mebbe  afore,  an'  I 
thrust  it's  good  news  I'll  be  bringin'  you." 

And  before  Mr.  Garfield  could  collect  his  wits  sufficiently  to 
ask  the  numerous  questions  which  rushed  to  his  now 
thoroughly  awakened  mind,  Tighe  had  disappeared. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

DISAPPOINTED. 

BACK  to  Dhrommacohol  !  nothing  else  was  left  for  the 
three  sorrowful  hearts  that  had  come  up  to  Tralee  that  morn- 
ing, hoping,  trusting,  praying.  Their  hope  had  been  dis- 
appointed, their  trust  had  proved  vain,  their  prayer  had  been 
unanswered.  Father  Meagher,  for  sake  of  his  despondent 
charges,  assumed  a  cheerfulness  it  was  impossible  for  him  to 
feel,  and  he  spoke  in  re-assuring  terms  of  what  Tighe  might  be 
able  to  achieve.  But  all  had  little  effect.  The  silence  and 
the  pallor  of  his  companions  told  too  surely  that  there  was 
little  decrease  in  their  doubts  and  their  apprehensions. 

As  they  turned  the  corner  of  a  street  on  their  way  to  the 
station  they  were  met  by  Morty  Carter.  The  surprise  and 
the  repugnance  to  the  meeting  were  mutual,  and  Carter  drew 
back,  this  time  with  no  feigned  emotion,  but  with  a  start  of 
embarrassed  and  painful  astonishment.  Father  Meagher,  his 
first  impulse  of  bitter  indignation  toward  the  traitor  passed, 
followed  the  example  of  his  divine  Master,  and  presented  a 
not  unfriendly  mien  to  the  miscreant.  But  there  was  a  stern- 
ness in  the  priest's  eye  and  an  accent  in  his  voice  which  spoke 
volumes  to  Carter,  and  made  him  wince  despite  all  the  bravado 
he  in  a  moment  assumed. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  your  reverence,"  he  said,  bowing  with  a 
fulsome  air,  "  and  the  young  ladies  ; — "  the  latter,  though  so 
deeply  veiled  that  not  a  feature  could  be  discerned,  had 
averted  their  faces — "  I  came  here  to  try  to  gain  admission  to 
the  jail,  to  see  Mr.  Carroll,  but  I  have  been  sternly  refused." 

Father  Meagher  could  control  himself  no  longer.  "Morty 
Carter,"  said  he,  looking  with  withering  contempt  at  tbe 
('S3) 


IJ4  CARROLL  &DONOOHUR. 

wretch  before  him,  "are  you  plotting  more  treachery; 

you  not  betrayed  our  poor  boy  sufficiently  that  you  would  set 

him  to  cement  your  infamy  ?  " 

Carter  strove  to  return  the  steady  look  of  the  priest,  but 
his  eyes  fell ;  he  tried  to  assume  the  defiant  air  which  had 
borne  him  through  on  previous  occasions,  but  somehow  the 
sight  of  those  veiled  figures,  and  one  especially,  the  taller  of 
the  two,  unnerved  him  ;  it  was  with  a  crestfallen  air  he  an- 
swered : 

"  Your  reverence  is  prejudiced  against  me,  so  it  would  be 
little  good  to  speak  in  my  own  favor  ;  but  one  day,  perhaps, 
when  these  black  reports  about  me  are  proved " 

"  To  be  entirely  true,  Carter,"  interrupted  Father  Meagher, 
"  you  will  appear  as  you  are,  and  we  shall  know  what  a  viper 
we  have  nourished.  Good  day." 

He  turned  shortly,  his  companions  following  him,  and 
Mortimer  Carter  was  left  to  his  own  dark  and  vengeful 
thoughts. 

The  dim  little  chapel  with  its  silence  and  solitude  formed 
Nora's  consolation  and  rest,  and  to  it  she  hastened  when, 
after  weary  hours  of  dusty  travel,  the  little  party  had  arrived 
at  home  and  she  could  steal  away  unnoticed.  The  hour  was 
fete,  and  Clare,  unusually  fatigued  in  body  and  mind,  went 
immediately  to  her  room.  Father  Meagher  sought  his  niece. 
She  was  putting  the  last  touches  to  her  kitchen  work,  and  the 
cleanly-swept  floor,  the  old-fashioned  dresser  just  under  the 
light  where  its  array  of  burnished  tins  and  polished  ware  were 
brought  into  resplendent  view,  with  Moira  herself,  fresh  and 
winsome  as  a  spring  blossom,  formed  a  picture  exceedingly 
pretty.  The  clergyman  was  the  more  disposed  to  think  it 
fair,  and  to  be  much  pleased  with  his  niece,  because  of  her 
obedience  regarding  Tighe  a  Vohr.  With  a  pleasant  compli- 
ment on  the  neat  appearance  of  the  room,  a  remark  so  unusual 
from  him  that  Moira  started,  he  called  her  to  him. 

She  obeyed,  blushing  and  delighted. 


DISAPPOINTED.  155 

"  I  understand  that  Tim  Carmody  has  been  here,"  said  the 
priest. 

"  He  has  been,"  she  answered,  half  falteringly,  and  with 
her  air  of  delight  changing  to  one  of  some  anxiety  and  fear. 

"  Oh,  you  need  not  be  afraid,"  spoke  the  clergyman  quickly, 
in  order  to  re-assure  her.  "  I  have  found  out  all  about  it 
from  Tighe  himself, — we  met  him  in  Tralee — and  I  was  much 
pleased  to  hear  of  your  obedience  ;  you  absolutely  refused  to 
Bpeak  to  him,  I  believe." 

She  immediately  regained  her  confidence  and  her  vivacity. 
M I  did,  uncle  ;  I  would  not  say  one  word  to  him,  because  you 
forbade  me  to." 

"  So  he  told  me  ;  but  I  did  not  mean,  my  dear  child,  to 
enjoin  absolute  silence  upon  you  ;  I  desired  you  not  to  re- 
ceive his  attentions,  not  to  permit  him  to  become  your  suitor, 
but  I  had  no  intention  of  wishing  you  not  to  speak  to  him — 
that  would  be  uncivil  and  uncharitable.  But  God  will  bless 
you  for  the  strict  obedience  you  thought  it  your  duty  to  prac- 
tice. And  now  I  am  happy  to  say  that  the  poor  fellow  has 
done  us  good  service  ;  he  has  lost  neither  time  nor  thought  in 
serving  poor  Carroll." 

In  her  delight  at  her  uncle's  unwonted  praise  of  Tighe  a 
Vohr,  Moira  quite  forgot  her  caution  ;  she  burst  out  eagerly  : 

"  And  did  he  tell  you,  uncle,  about  that  dreadful  paper  with 
Mr.  O'Donoghue's  name  on  it  ?  he  gave  it  to  me  to  read, 
and " 

"  Gave  it  to  you  to  read 1 "  interrupted  the  priest,  who  had 
supposed  that  her  absolute  silence  which  Tighe  reported 
meant  also  an  utter  absence  of  even  usual  civility  on  her  part, 
an  idea  which  now  seemed  to  be  disproved  by  the  fact  of  her 
acceptance  of  the  paper  from  Tighe  in  order  to  read  it. 
'*  And  you  read  it,"  continued  the  priest,  "  and  still  no  com- 
munication passed  between  you  and  Tighe  ?  I  cannot  un- 
derstand this." 

Moira  was  scarlet ;  she  hung  her  head  in  shame  and  con- 
fusion. 


,5$  CARROLL  (TDONOQHUB. 

"  Answer  me,  Moira,"  said  the  clergyman  sternly,  **  h*v« 
both  you  and  Tighe  been  telling  me  wilful  lies  ?" 

There  was  no  other  course  for  the  suame-stricken  girl  but 
to  tell  the  truth,  and  the  whole  truth. 

"  We  spoke  to  Shaun,  uncle,  Tighe  and  I,  sending  him  from 
one  to  the  other  of  us  with  our  messages." 

Father  Meagher  looked  for  an  instant  as  if  he  had  become 
suddenly  dazed  ;  then  the  whole  affair  flashing  upon  him  as 
vividly  as  though  he  had  been  present  at  the  interview  in 
which  Shaun  played  so  important  a  part,  it  was  with  difficulty 
he  could  repress  a  smile  at  the  ingenuity  which  would  thus 
deceive  him  ;  but  he  was  really  annoyed  that  such  cunning 
had  been  practiced,  and  he  determined  on  the  morrow  to  give 
his  niece  a  more  stern  reprimand  than  she  had  ever  received 
from  him. 

"  A  precious  pair  both  you  and  Tighe  are  ! "  he  muttered, 
abruptly  leaving  the  kitchen. 

"  Now  I've  done  it,  like  a  real  omadhaun  as  I  am  !  "  mut- 
tered Moira,  and  with  a  heavy  heart  she  repaired  to  her 
chamber. 

Nora  had  finished  her  prayers  and  her  long  meditation,  and 
leaving  the  chapel  by  the  passage  which  led  to  the  garden 
surrounding  the  house,  she  was  tempted  by  the  beauty  of  the 
night  to  prolong  her  stay.  Standing  by  a  broken  gap,  the 
stones  of  which  had  only  that  day  fallen,  she  heard  *.  deep- 
drawn  sigh,  as  if  it  proceeded  from  some  one  crouched  among 
the  stones.  Alarmed,  and  yet  yielding  to  the  impuUe  which 
prompted  her  to  see  if  it  was  a  case  that  her  charity  could 
benefit,  she  stooped  a  little,  and  asked  softly  : 

"  Is  there  any  one  here  in  trouble  ?  " 

A  figure  rose  slowly,  noisily  displacing  the  stones  about  it 
as  it  did  so,  and  then,  mounting  on  the  lowest  part  of  the 
broken  gap,  stood  fully  revealed  by  the  moonlight  to  Nora. 
It  was  a  man  of  medium  height,  with  shoulders  so  high  as  to 
give  him  somewhat  of  a  deformed  appearance ;  his  head, 
deeply  sunken  between  his  shoulders,  was  abundantly  covered 


DISAPPOINTED. 


'57 


by  coarse  black  hair  that,  hanging  matted  almost  over  his  very 
eyes,  gave  to  the  haggard  face  a  half-wild  and  savage  look. 

"  Rick  of  the  Hills  ! "  exclaimed  Nora. 

"  Yes  ;  Rick  of  the  Hills,  and  no  less,"  responded  the  man 
doggedly. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  asked  Nora,  kindly  ;  "  you  have 
been  seen  about  here  so  little  of  late  that  we  hoped  you  had 
found  some  comfortable  home  at  last." 

"  Comfortable  home — me  in  a  comfortable  home  ! "  he 
laughed  in  painful  mockery  of  the  words.  "  There  will  never 
be  comfort  for  me  ;  neither  here,  nor  hereafter  ;  the  devil  is 
now  waiting  to  seize  my  soul." 

"  Hush  ! "  said  Nora,  battling  against  a  sensation  of  faint- 
ness  which  crept  for  a  moment  upon  her,  "  do  not  say  such 
dreadful  words.  He  who  made  you  is  all-powerful  to  save 
you." 

"  Yes  ;  but  not  when  a  soul  is  black  with  guilt  like  mine  is. 
You  asked  a  minute  ago  if  there  was  any  one  here  in  trouble  ; 
I  am  in  trouble — my  heart  is  breaking  within  me  !  " 

The  expression  of  anguish  which  came  into  his  pinched 
features  attested  the  truth  of  his  words.  The  gentle  girl  was 
painfully  touched. 

"  What  is  it,  Rick  ?  perhaps  I  can  help  you  ;  tell  me  your 
sorrow,  that  I  may  at  least  try  to  relieve  it.'* 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  You  could  not  ;  not  all  the  kindness  of  your  pure  young 
heart  could  lighten  the  load  on  my  mind.  But  may  be  you 
could  tell  me  something  that  might  stifle  the  pain  of  my  con- 
science. If  a  father  lost  his  child, — a  little  one  that  was  like 
the  apple  of  his  eye  ;  a  little  one  that  he  loved  till  his  heart 
didn't  seem  to  beat  when  she  was  out  of  his  sight — if  he  lost 
her,  I  mean  if  she  was  taken  from  him  to  a  good,  rich  home 
to  be  the  darling  of  everybody  there,  and  to  be  made  to  think 
that  her  father  was  dead,  and  if  that  father  was  content  to 
give  her  up — content  because  of  the  riches,  and  the  comfort, 
and  the  education  which  would  be  given  his  darling, — I  say  if 


isg  CARROLL  CTDONOQHUK 

he  was  content  to  do  all  this,  and  to  wander  the  world  with, 
out  her,  begging  his  bit,  but  always  crying  for  her  in  his  heart ; 
at  the  last,  when  he  could  stand  it  no  longer,  when  the  grief 
in  his  bosom  was  hurrying  him  to  the  grave,  would  it  be  right 
for  him  to  claim  his  child  ?  " 

The  homely,  but  touching,  pathos  of  the  voice,  the  wild 
grief  in  the  face  looking  down  upon  her,  drew  forth  Nora 
McCarthy's  most  compassionate  tears  ;  they  flowed  fast  and 
copiously. 

"  It  would  be  right,"  she  answered. 

"Right  for  him  to  intrude  himself,"  he  resumed,  "into 
that  grand  home,  beggar  and  outcast  as  he  is  ;  right  for  him 
to  spoil  his  child's  happiness  by  the  shock  which  it  would 
give  her  to  learn  that  she  has  such  a  father  ? " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Nora  ;  "  and  when  she  learns  of  his  faithful 
and  tender  affection  for  her  through  all  the  years,  surely  her 
heart  will  bound  to  him — let  him  be  what  he  may,  a  villain,  a 
murderer,  he  will  be  still  her  father,  and,  so  far  as  regards 
herself,  her  loving  father." 

"  And  do  you  think,  then," — the  voice  grew  more  mourn- 
fully earnest,  the  eyes  more  piercing  in  their  look — "that  it 
would  be  the  duty  of  that  child  to  leave  that  elegant  home 
*nd  go  with  her  begging  father  ?  " 

"  I  do,  I  do  !  "  answered  Nora  ;  "  and  it  should  be  her  lov- 
ing task  to  labor  for  him  and  to  comfort  him." 

"  Thank  you,  Miss  McCarthy  ;  those  are  the  sweetest  words 
I  have  heard  for,  many  a  day  ;  if  I  wasn't  the  sinful  creature 
I  am,  I'd  bid  God  to  bless  you,  but  such  words  from  me 
would  only  be  a  mockery." 

He  turned  to  leave  the  gap. 

"  A  moment,  Rick,"  besought  Nora.  "  I  would  say  an- 
other word  to  you.  I  feel  that  this  case  which  you  have  so 
touchingly  described  is  your  own,  and  I  fancy  that  I  can 
understand  now  your  unhappy  life — the  wandering  habits  we 
have  so  censured,  your  intemperance,  your  distaste  for  labor, 
— all  have  been  due  to  this  harrowing  grief.  I  pity  you.  my 


DISAPPOINTED. 


'55 


poor  fellow,  but  a  blighter  day  is  coming  :  you  will  claim  this 
long-lost,  anlently-loved  child  ;  she  will  bound  to  your  arms, 
and  with  her  you  will  be  once  more  happy.  Yes,  Rick  ;  and 
in  that  happiness  you  will  thank  God,  and  you  will  return 
to  Him  ;  you  will  atone  for  the  past,  you  will  make  reparation 
to  the  sacred  Heart  you  have  so  wounded.  Promise  me, 
Rick,  that  when  that  day  comes  you  will  return  to  the  God 
you  have  so  long  forsaken — you  will  frequent  the  Sacraments 
once  more." 

He  had  clasped  his  hands  over  his  face,  and  she  saw  by  the 
violent  trembling  of  his  form,  and  the  tears  which  trickled  be- 
tween his  fingers,  the  grief  that  he  could  not  repress. 

"  You  know  not  what  you  ask,  Miss  McCarthy,"  he  said  at 
last,  looking  at  her. 

"  I  do,  Rick,  I  do,  and  I  want  your  promise," — stepping 
lightly  on  the  loose  stones  so  that  she  could  be  nearer  to  him, 
while  at  the  same  time  she  extended  her  hand. 

"  Not  my  hand  to  lie  in  your  innocent  palm,"  he  replied, 
"I'll  promise  without  that" 

He  turned  quickly,  jumped  into  the  road  below,  and 
walked  rapidly  away. 

Nora  went  to  her  couch  with  strange  thoughts  ;  amid  her 
own  grief  and  anxiety  she  had  sympathy  to  spare  for  the  poor 
wretch  with  whom  she  had  so  recently  parted,  and  for  whom 
before  she  slept  she  offered  many  an  earnest  tad  fervent 
prayer. 


CHAPTER  XX 

A    STREET    ARAB. 

IT  was  only  a  street  accident :  the  overturning  of  a  gig 
driven  tandem,  and  the  dashing  away  of  the  frightened  horses 
with  the  broken  vehicle.  The  owner  of  the  turn-out  had  sin- 
gularly escaped,  owing  to  his  presence  of  mind  and  his  swift- 
ness in  jumping  ;  but  a  little  street  Arab  had  fallen  under  the 
feet  of  the  horses,  and  he  seemed  to  be  severely  hurt. 

Tighe  a  Vohr,  passing  at  the  time,  had  witnessed  the  whole 
of  the  accident,  and  he  was  the  first  to  lift  the  little  prostrate 
form.  The  boy  was  not  insensible,  but  the  wound  in  his  head, 
from  which  the  blood  was  flowing  profusely,  and  the  death- 
like color  of  his  face,  bespoke  no  light  injury. 

"  I  have  no  home,  but  don't  let  them  take  me  to  the  hospi- 
tal," he  whispered,  striving  to  smile  at  the  friendly  face  above 
him  ;  and  Tighe,  touched  to  the  heart  by  the  gentle,  mourn- 
ful look  in  the  soft,  dark  eyes,  and  the  pleading  in  the  faint 
voice,  was  puzzled  how  to  grant  the  boy's  request.  He  was 
not  long,  however,  in  having  one  of  his  sudden,  bright 
thoughts.  Corny  O'Toole's  bachelor  apartment  was  in  the 
next  street — a  few  seconds'  walk  would  bring  him  there  ;  and, 
without  pausing  to  think  what  Corny's  opinion  on  the  subject 
might  be,  or  what  kind  of  a  welcome  the  latter  might  accord 
the  injured  stranger,  he  resolved  to  bear  his  burden  thence, 
trusting  to  his  ingenuity  for  mollifying  the  old  man's  temper 
should  it  be  unpleasantly  aroused. 

"  Back,"  he  cried  to  the  crowd  now  pressing  about  him, 

*'  lave  the  way  !  " — speaking  angrily  to  some  of  the  foremost, 

who  with  impertinent  curiosity  were  thrusting  themselves  in 

his  face.     His  sturdy  demeanor  showed  that  he  would  en- 

(160) 


A  BTRJSST  ARAB.  161 

force  his  order,  and  the  crowd  made  a  passage  for  him,  drop- 
ping sundry  remarks  as  he  went. 

"  The  craythur  !  it  must  be  his  brother  ;  an'  a  purty  gossoon 
he  is  !  The  Lord  betune  us  an'  harrum,  but  it's  little  we 
know  from  one  day  to  another  what'll  overtake  us." 

Tighe,  paying  little  attention  to  the  observations,  hurried 
on  with  his  burden,  Shaun  closely  following  him.  Mr. 
O'Toole  had  the  same  lock,  and  bolt,  and  spike  to  attend  to 
when  Tighe  knocked  at  his  door,  as  on  the  occasion  of  the 
latter's  previous  visit ;  but  Tighe's  voice  pleading  for  speedy 
admission  seemed  to  hasten  the  little  man's  movements. 

"  I'm  afeerd  he's  killed,  Corny — the  beautiful  little  lad  !  " 
began  Tighe,  the  moment  the  door  was  fairly  opened,  and  he 
brushed  by  the  astounded  Mr.  O'Toole  to  the  bed  which 
stood  in  a  curtained  corner  of  the  room.  Placing  his  burden 
gently  upon  it,  he  continued  :  "  There  was  no  other  place  to 
take  him,  Corny,  an'  I  moinded  how  me  mother  used  to  tell 
o'  yer  tinder  heart  for  the  poor  an'  the  disthressed,  so  I  med 
up  me  moind  to  bring  him  here,  an'  we'll  nurse  him,  Corny, 
you  an'  me,  till  he  gets  well." 

That  allusion  to  Mrs.  Carmody  struck  home,  as  the  sly 
Tighe  a  Vohr  knew  it  would  do.  Mr.  O'Toole  was  by  the 
bedside  in  a  moment. 

"  Get  me  some  wather,"  said  Tighe,  "  an'  well  wash  this 
cut  the  first  thing — see  how  deep  it  is ;  an*  mebbe  we  could 
get  him  well  agin  widout  havin'  recoorse  to  a  docthor ;  for 
docthors,  bad  luck  to  thim  !  are  only  a  dissectin'  set  that'll 
take  yer  money  while  you're  livin'  an*  yer  body  whin  you're 
dead." 

Corny  was  obedient  to  all  the  directions,  looking  on  with 
a  sort  of  stupid  wonder  at  the  skill  and  quickness  with  which 
Tighe  attended  to  the  patient.  The  tender-hearted  fellow's 
hand  was  as  gentle  as  a  woman's,  and  the  patient  little  suffer- 
er evinced  his  gratitude  by  a  frequent  effort  to  smile. 

The  cut  was  not  so  deep  as  Tighe  had  feared,  and  by  the 
time  it  was  carefully  washed,  and  the  soft,  thick,  curling  hair 


l6t  CARROLL  VDONOGHUE. 

cropped  from  about  it,  it  seemed  to  need  no  more  than  a  sin> 
pie  bandage.  The  boy  lay  back  on  the  pillow  with  a  sigh  of 
relief,  and  closed  his  eyes  ;  indeed,  fatigue,  more  than  pain, 
seemed  to  distress  him,  and  Tighe  drew  the  curtains,  and 
motioning  Corny  to  follow  him,  stole  to  a  distant  part  of  the 
room. 

"  I  don't  know  one  thing  about  him,  Corny,"  explained 
Tighe  in  a  whisper,  "  only  I  saw  the  horses  dash  him  under 
their  fate,  an'  I  was  frightened  intoirely  ;  thin  whin  I  lifted 
him,  it  wint  to  me  heart  the  way  he  tould  me  that  he  had  no 
home,  an*  the  look  wid  which  he  axed  me  not  to  let  thim  take 
him  to  the  hospital.  That's  the  whole  o'  it,  Corny  ;  but  oh, 
won't  me  mother  be  plazed  whin  I  tell  her  o'  yer  noble  good- 
ness this  day  ! " 

"  Pshaw  !  "  said  the  little  man,  trying  to  cover  by  affected 
indifference  the  glow  of  pleasure  into  which  he  was  thrown  by 
the  last  words. 

"  A  few  days'  rest,"  continued  Tighe,  "  wilV  make  him  all 
roight ;  an'  now,  Corny,  I  have  a  word  to  tell  you  about  me- 
sel'." 

Mr.  O'Toole  drew  his  chair  closer,  and  very  affectionately 
patted  Shaun,  who  was  sitting  gravely  between  them.  The  al- 
lusion to  Mrs.  Carmody  had  made  him  well  disposed  to  take 
an  active  interest  in  everything  pertaining  to  Tighe  a  Vohr. 

Tighe  continued,  still  in  a  whisper :  "  The  young  masther 
is  so  sthrictly  guarded  that  not  one  at  all'll  be  let  to  see  him, 
an'  Father  Meagher  an'  the  young  ladies  had  to  go  back  to 
Dhrommacohol  yisterday  the  same  as  they  kem,  widout  one 
sight  o'  him.  Well,  Mr.  Garfield " 

"  The  quartermaster  that  I  wrote  the  letter  to  in  the  Widow 
Moore's  name  ?  "  interrupted  Mr.  O'Toole. 

"The  very  same,  Corny  ;  an'  roight  well  yer  letther  was  re- 
caved  ;  he  doesn't  belave  to  this  day  that  there's  a  bit  o'  a 
joke  in  the  matther,  an*  what  wid  his  own  consistin*  on  bein* 
where  the  widdy  is,  an'  followin'  her  loike  a  ghost,  he's  the 
spoort  o'  the  town  ;  an*  she  hates  the  soight  o'  him  as  the 


A  STREET  ARAB  16$ 

divil  hates  howly  wather.  Oh,  but  I'm  tould  it's  a  soight  to 
behould  her  freezin'  looks  at  him,  an'  the  cowld  shouldher  she 
gives  him  ivery  way,  an'  he,  poor  omadhaun,  thinks  it's  all 
rolght  bekaise  we  tould  him  so  in  the  letther.  You  moind  the 
contints  o'  the  letther,  Corny  ? " 

"  I  do,"  said  Mr.  O'Toole,  with  a  glow  of  pride. 

"  Well,"  resumed  Tighe,  "her  brother  Jack  isn't  a  whit  bet- 
ther  than  hersel';  he's  down  on  the  poor  fool  o*  a  quarther- 
masther  too,  an'  he's  been  thryin'  to  make  all  soorts  o'  spoort 
o'  him.  He  succeeded  in  makin'  him  bet  himsel',  an'  get  the 
bets  o'  his  frinds,  on  a  horse  that  has  the  thrick  o'  goin'  lame 
betoimes  whin  there's  to  be  a  race  ;  an'  now  for  this  race 
that's  comin*  off  in  a  wake  or  so,  poor  Garfield  hasn't  a  horse 
nor  a  rider,  an'  he'll  be  out  a  hundhred  pounds  or  so  ;  be- 
soides  bein'  the  manes  o'  his  frinds  losin'  also.  Are  you 
takin'  it  all  in,  Corny  ?  " 

"  I  am,"  answered  that  gentleman  with  a  very  solemn  air. 

"  Well,  whin  I  heerd  that,  an'  heerd,  too,  that  the  masther's 
frinds  wouldn't  get  nigh  nor  nixt  him,  an'  also  that  the  mas- 
ther  himsel'  will  be  kept  here  a  month,  I  jist  wint  to  work 
thinkin" — hard  thinkin',  Corny." 

Tighe  paused,  and  looked  sharply  into  his  listener's  face,  as 
if  to  question  what  the  latter's  surmise  would  be  regarding  the 
result  of  his  severe  cogitations.  Mr.  O'Toole,  by  way  of  an- 
swer, spread  both  his  hands  firmly  upon  his  knees,  bent  his 
body  forward,  and  looked  as  sharply  into  Tighe's  face,  his 
look  expressing  : 

"  What  did  you  think  ?  " 

"  Me  thinkin'  kem  to  this,  Corny  :  that  if  I  could  foind  an- 
other horse  an'  a  rider  for  Mr.  Garfield,  in  his  gratitude  hf 
moight  foind  a  way  for  us  all  to  git  seein'  the  masther." 

"  Timothy  Carrnody,  I'm  proud  of  you!"  the  little  man  stood 
up,  and  shook  Tighe's  hand  ;  "  you  are  your  mother's  own  son, 
and  you  deserve  to  be  Timothy  O'Toole." 

He  had  forgotten  in  his  eagerness  his  previous  whispered 
tones,  and  had  spoken  aloud  ;  but  Tighe  pointed  to  the 


,64  CARROLL  VDONOQHUK 

bed,  and  put  his  finger  on  his  lip,  and  Mr.  O'Toole,  having 
wiped  his  face  and  given  a  careful  twist  to  his  sidelocks,  sat 
down. 

"  It  was  aisy  enough  to  think  so  far,"  resumed  Tighe,  bring- 
ing his  mouth  in  close  proximity  to  Corny's  ear,  "  but  it  wa« 
the  divil's  own  job  to  think  where  I'd  get  the  horse.  I  used 
to  be  a  good  hand  at  conthrivin'  to  get  thim  some  way  for 
our  own  races  afore  the  masther  was  thransported ;  an'  I'm 
thinkin*  now  I'll  have  to  do  what  I  used  to  do  thin — take  the 
lind  o'  a  horse  widout  axin'  the  owner's  lave,  an'  hould  me- 
sel'  prepared  to  be  a  marthyr  for  the  consequinces." 

"  But  how  will  you  take  the  time  to  find  the  horse,  an'  to 
ride  him  in  the  race,  engaged  as  you  are  at  present  ? "  said 
Corny,  pointing  significantly  to  Tighe's  dress. 

"  Lave  me  alone  for  that,"  answered  Tighe  a  Vohr  ;  "  Shaun 
here," — affectionately  placing  his  hand  on  the  dog — "  was  the 
manes  o'  managin'  it  for  me.  Faith,  I  don't  know  what  I'd 
do  at  all  widout  Shaun  ?  " — turning  a  look  expressive  of  the 
fondest  regard  on  the  scraggy  animal.  "  I  shpoke  to  Captain 
Dennier  this  very  mornin'  about  lavin'  his  sarvice.  He  was 
the  surprisedest  man  iver  you  seen,  Corny.  *  Lave  me  ! '  he 
says,  '  what  for  ?  Arn't  you  thrated  well  ? ' 

"  '  I  am,  yer  honor,'  sez  I  ;  '  betther  thratement  I  couldn't 
wish  for  ;  an'  if  it  was  restin'  wid  mesel',  I'd  be  contint  to  sthay 
wid  yer  honor  always.' 

"'Well,  what  is  the  throuble?'he  axed  thin;  'tell  me 
plainly,  Tighe.' 

"  Thin,  Corny,  I  purtinded  to  be  awful  shy  intoirely,  an'  to 
be  soort  o'  disthressed  loike  ;  an'  to  restore  me  confidence,  an' 
to  make  me  feel  aisy  afore  him,  he  bid  me  take  a  sate,  an'  he 
took  one  himsel',  an'  he  sez  : 

' '  You  know,  Tighe,  I  promised  Captain  Crawtord  to  pur- 
vide  for  you,  an'  I'd  loike  to  kape  me  word  ;  besides,  I'm 
plazed  wid  you  mesel'  an'  I'd  loike  you'd  sthay.' 

"  '  I  would,  yer  honor,'  I  answered, '  but  the  life  in  the  bar- 
racks doesn't  suit  Shaun  at  all.'  " 


A  STREET  ARAB.  ^5 

"  Oh,  Tighe,"  interrupted  Mr.  O'Toole,  "  you  didn't  say 
that !  " 

"  The  divil  a  lie  in  it,  Corny  ;  I  said  that  wid  as  sober  a 
face  as  I  have  this  minit,  an'  I  wint  on,  while  the  captain  sat 
bolt  upright  in  his  chair,  an'  looked  at  me  as  if  he  thought  I 
had  lost  me  sinses  :  '  Shaun,'  sez  I, '  is  a  delicate  dog,  an'  what 
wid  the  confinement  o*  the  barracks,  and  the  excitin'  sight  o* 
the  soldiers,  he's  gettin'  thin  and  worrisome.  He  was  always 
used  to  the  counthry,  an'  to  plinty  o'  liberty,  an*  I'll  have  to 
go  away  wid  him  for  a  few  days.' 

"  Thin  the  captain  sez  :  '  Well,  Tighe,  if  I  give  you  lave  o' 
absence  for  a  wake,  would  not  that  recruit  your  dog  ? ' 

" '  No,'  sez  I,  thinkin'  o'  the  race  ;  '  nothin1  less  than  two 
wakes'd  do — Shaun's  strinth  is  run  down,  an'  he  requires  par- 
ticler  thratemint.' 

" '  Well,  take  the  two  wakes,'  sez  he.  So  here  I  am,  Corny, 
wid  two  wakes  holiday  afore  me,  an'  a  good  aisy  place  at  me 
back." 

There  was  a  faint  call  from  the  curtained  corner.  Both 
Tighe  and  Corny  were  instantly  at  the  bedside. 

"  Where  am  I  ? "  The  dark  eyes  were  opened  wide  in  won- 
dering surprise,  and  the  head  half  lifted  from  the  pillow. 

"  Oh,  I  mind  it  all  now," — as  Tighe's  sympathetic  face  ap- 
peared in  the  opening  of  the  curtains  ;  "  I  was  knocked  down 
by  the  horses,  and  you  picked  me  up  and  brought  me  here  ;  " 
and  the  most  ravishing  smile  that  Tighe  thought  he  had  ever 
seen  played  on  the  perfect  features. 

"  Don't  be  thryin'  to  talk,"  said  Tighe,  softly,  "  for  if  you'll 
be  quiet,  you'll  be  well  in  no  toime.  Lie  down  now," — as  the 
boy  endeavored  to  rise  to  a  sitting  posture — "  an'  Corny  herell 
make  you  a  cup  o'  tay — the  rale  weed  that  he  kapes  in  his  own 
private  canisther.  Won't  you,  Corny  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure  I  will,"  answered  Corny,  immediately  begin- 
ning to  bustle  about  the  necessary  preparations. 

"  Let  me  tell  you,"  pleaded  the  boy,  catching  one  of  Tighe's 
hands  in  his  fevered  grasp,  "  you  look  so  kind  that  you  bring 


,66  CARROLL  &DONOGHUK 

my  heart  back  to  Cathleen.  It  won't  hurt  me," — as  Tight 
doubtfully  shook  his  head, — "  I'll  not  say  very  much  ;  and — 
oh  !  " — with  a  cry  of  terror,  and  a  spring  that  brought  him  to 
an  upright  sitting  posture, — "  what  did  I  do  with  it — have  I 
lost  it  ?  "  lie  searched  his  bosom  wildly.  It  came  forth  at  last, 
a  piece  of  folded  paper,  and  with  a  sigh  of  intense  relief,  he 
caught  it  fast  in  his  hand,  and  threw  himself  back  exhausted 
on  his  pillow.  Tighe  would  have  drawn  the  curtains  and  left 
him,  but  the  little  fevered  hand  again  grasped  him.  "  Stay," 
whispered  the  boy,  "  I  shall  be  better  in  a  moment,  and  I  can 
tell  you." 

He  did  rally,  and  Tighe  was  forced  to  hear  him. 

"I  am  to  take  this  paper," — holding  up  the  latter, — "to 
Dhrommacohol,  and  give  it  to  some  one  there  that  they  call 
Rick  of  the  Hills." 

Tighe  no  longer  bade  the  boy  desist ;  he  was  listening  now 
with  most  eager  attention. 

"  Mr.  Carter  gave  it  to  me  to  take.  He  was  stopping  at 
Hoolahan's,  where  I  had  my  meals  and  a  lodging  yesterday, 
and  my  breakfast  this  morning.  He  wanted  this  note  to  be 
taken  by  hand,  for  he  was  afraid  if  ke  sent  it  by  post  it  wouldn't 
reach  Rick  of  the  Hills,  by  reason  of  the  latter  not  being  al- 
ways in  the  one  house.  He  gave  me  directions  if  I  didn't 
find  him  at  once  to  go  to  two  or  three  other  places.  One  of 
the  women  in  Mr.  Hoolahan's  told  him  I  could  be  trusted, 
and  he  was  so  anxious  to  have  the  note  go  quick  that  he  bade 
me  start  at  once  ;  and  now  what'll  I  do  if  I'm  not  able  to  take 
it  ? "  He  looked  with  touching  anxiety  into  Tighe's  face. 

"I  EEC  goin'  down  to  Dhrommacohol  this  very  day,"  an- 
swered Tighe  a  Vohr,  "  and  I  know  Rick  o'  the  Hills,  an'  if 
youll  thrust  me,  I'll  take  it  to  him." 

"  Trust  you,"  the  boy  said,  "  after  what  you  have  done  for 
me  !  Ill  trust  yc  i,  and  I'll  be  so  happy  to  know  that  the  mes- 
sage went,  and  that  Mr.  Carter  won't  be  disappointed."  He 
gave  the  paper  into  Tighe's  eager  hand,  and  continued  : 
"  Up  in  Ballygarry,  where  I  live,  everybody  was  kind  to  rat, 


A  STREET  ARAB.  167 

mostly,  I  think,  because  I  was  an  orphan  ;  I  bad  a  home  with 
one  and  the  other  of  them,  and  a  bit  of  schooling  once  in  a 
while  ;  but  the  kindest  of  all  to  me  was  Cathleen  Kelly.  She 
taught  me  to  read  and  write,  and  she  told  me  such  beautiful 
things  about  God  and  His  blessed  mother  that  I  used  to 
think  she  must  have  been  in  Heaven  herself  to  know  so  much 
of  them.  She  lived  with  her  aunt  and  her  cousin,  a  yonng 
man  as  kind-hearted  as  herself ;  but  he  went  away  to  join  the 
boys  when  the  news  of  the  rising  came,  and  not  very  long 
after  a  letter  came  from  a  priest  to  say  that  he  was  dead — he 
had  been  shot  in  some  fight  with  the  soldiers.  Oh,  then  was 
the  time  of  grief  for  Cathleen  and  her  poor  old  aunt,  for  she 
was  the  young  man's  mother.  Their  hearts  seemed  to  be 
breaking,  and  once  in  a  while  I'd  hear  a  word  dropped  that 
told  me  how  they  were  aching  to  know  more  particulars  of 
his  death  ;  and  then  it  got  into  my  head  that  if  the  priest  who 
wrote  the  letter,  and  who  said  in  the  letter  how  he  was  pres- 
ent at  the  death-bed  of  William  Kelly,  could  come  to  see 
them  it  would  console  them  entirely.  I  did  say  to  Cathleen 
that  she  and  her  aunt  ought  to  make  a  journey  to  see  the 
priest,  but  there  seemed  to  be  some  queer  thing  hanging  over 
it  all,  as  if  there  was  a  secret  reason  to  prevent  the  journey. 
When  I  saw  that  I  made  up  my  own  mind  to  make  a  journey 
myself  to  this  priest  unknowns!  to  any  one.  Quite  careless- 
like  I  got  out  of  Cathleen  the  name  of  the  priest,  and  the 
place  he  was  in,  and  the  way  one  might  take  to  get  to  him, 
and  I  started,  sometimes  begging  my  way,  and  sometimes 
aiming  it.  I  only  got  here  yesterday,  and  I  happened  on 
Hoolahan's  place  to  beg  a  meal.  One  of  the  women  there 
was  very  kind  to  me  ;  she  gave  me  a  lodging  and  fine  meals, 
and  I  told  her  where  I  was  bound  for,  but  I  didn't  tell  her 
my  business.  That  was  yesterday  evening,  and  this  morning 
she  came  running  in  to  me  when  I  was  at  my  breakfast,  saying 
that  there  was  a  gentleman  outside  who  wanted  a  message 
carried  to  a  place  that  I'd  have  to  pass  through  on  my  way  to 
see  Father  O'Connor." 


,68  OARSOLL  aDONOQHUlS. 

44  Father  O'Connor  !  "  interrupted  Tighe,  his  face  and  attt 
tude  expressing  his  thrilling  interest  in  the  artlessly-told  tale. 

"  Yes  ;  do  you  know  him  ? "  questioned  the  boy. 

"  I  have  seen  him,"  answered  Tighe  evasively,  not  knowing 
how  prudent  it  might  be  for  him  to  say  more  until  he  had 
heard  the  conclusion  of  the  story. 

"  Well,  I  went  out  to  see  the  gentleman,  and  he  seemed 
pleased  with  my  looks,  for  he  gave  me  the  note  at  once,  and 
said  to  me  what  I  told  you  before.  And  now  I'll  rest." 

He  was  very  tired  ;  not  even  the  tea  which  Corny  had  more 
neatly  prepared  than  would  have  been  deemed  possible  from 
his  slovenly  surroundings,  and  of  which  the  injured  boy  largely 
partook,  seemed  able  to  delay  even  for  a  moment  the  lethargy 
into  which  he  sunk.  Judging  rightly  that  repose  would  benefit 
him  most,  Tighe  partially  closed  the  curtains  again,  and  left 
the  bedside.  He  motioned  to  Corny. 

"  They  say  all's  fair  in  love  an'  war,"  he  whispered,  "  an 
as  I'm  at  war  wid  ould  Carther  there  can't  be  any  harrum  in 
readin'  this."  He  opened  the  paper  and  put  it  into  Corny's 
hand.  The  latter  seemed  to  take  a  similar  view  of  the  case, 
for  without  any  hesitation  he  softly  read : 

"RICK: 

I  have  decided  to  go  to  Dublin,  and  the  sooner  I  go 
the  better  it'll  be  for  my  own  interests.  I  promised  Ned  Ma- 
lony  a  fortnight  ago  that  I'd  be  down  there  in  time  to  bring 
his  horse,  '  Charmer,'  up  here  for  the  race  that's  coming  off 
next  week  ;  but  I  can't  do  that  now.  He'll  have  to  bring  the 
horse  up  himself.  Show  him  this  note,  and  tell  him  to  have 
no  fear.  Joe  Canty  is  booked  to  ride  him,  and  it  will  be  time 
enough  to  have  the  horse  in  Blenner's  stable  the  day  before 
the  race.  Tell  him  the  stakes  are  all  right,  and  that  we  have 
heavy  backers.  And  do  you,  Rick,  keep  sober,  and  when  I 
return,  be  prepared  to  do  what  I  told  you. 
Yours, 

MORTIMER  CARTER." 

Tighe  jumped  to  his  feet,  his  features  undergoing  a  series 
of  most  comical  contortions,  which  were  intended  to  express 


A  STREET  ARAB. 

his  intense  satisfaction  and  delight.  It  was  with  difficulty  h« 
refrained  from  giving  utterance  to  a  loud,  wild  cheer,  the  man- 
ner in  which  he  usually  manifested  his  joy.  "  Be  the  powers, 
but  the  saints  thimsels'  are  helpin'  me  ;  was  I  iver  in  such 
luck  afore  !  Corny,  don't  you  see  how  I'll  manage  now  ? 
You'll  write  a  note  to  Mr.  Maloney,  Ned  Maloney,  the  ould 
miser,  imitatin'  this  handwritin'  as  if  it  kem  from  Carther,  an' 
you'll  mintion  me  in  it ;  you'll  not  say  a  word  o'  Rick  o*  the 
Hills,  but  you'll  jist  bid  ould  Maloney  to  give  up  the  horse  to 
me  care,  an'  I'll  bring  him  up  here,  an'  stable  him  till  the  race 
comes  off ;  an'  tare  an'  ages,  but  that'll  be  the  race  to  knock 
the  soight  out  o'  Morty  Carther's  eyes  whin  he  hears  o'  it !  are 
you  comprehindin',  Corny  ? " 

Corny  nodded. 

"  Well,  do  you  set  to  work  at  once  at  the  writin',  an'  I'll  run 
down  to  the  quarthermasther  an'  tell  him  to  inter  his  horse  an* 
his  rider  as  quick  as  he  plazes.  But  what '11  be  the  name  o' 
the  horse  ? " 

"  Timothy,"  suggested  Corny. 

"Timothy!"  contemptuously  echoed  Tighe,  "that's  too 
small  entoirely.  No  ;  we'll  give  him  one  o'  the  classical 
names  out  o'  the  histhory  o'  Ireland — a  name  that  manes 
somethin'." 

"  Brian  Boni,"  ventured  Corny. 

"  That  will  do,"  answered  Tighe  ;  then  he  continued  :  "  An* 
the  rider'll  be  mesel',  Timothy  O'Carmody ;  for  there'« 
nothin'  like  havin'  an  O  or  a  Mac  afore  the  first  letther  o'  yer 
name  ;  it  gives  one  a  big  feelin',  a  sinse  o'  importhance." 

Corny  nodded,  and  Tighe,  having  satisfied  himself  that  the 
boy  was  peacefully  sleeping,  departed  on  his  errand,  followed 
by  Shaun.  Scarcely  an  hour  elapsed  when  the  bark  of  the 
dog  in  the  passage  leading  to  Mr.  O'Toole's  chamber  an- 
nounced Tighe's  return.  He  was  in  the  same  state  of  joyful 
excitement  in  which  he  had  departed,  having  seen  Mr.  Gar- 
field,  and  having  delighted  that  gentleman  vrith  the  tidings  he 
bad  brought,  and  he  had  received  in  return  from  the  grateful 


,70  CARROLL  aDONOGRUB. 

quartermaster  an  assurance  that  the  latter  would  make  every 
effort  to  afford  Carroll  O'Donoghue  an  interview  with  his 
friends. 

"  An'  now,  have  you  the  note  ready  for  ould  Maloney  ?  * 
asked  Tighe. 

"  I  have,"  answered  Corny,  proceeding  to  read  from  a  half 
sheet  of  letter-paper : 

"  MR.  MALONEY  : 

I  have  decided  to  go  to  Dublin,  and  the  soon- 
er, the  better  it  will  be  for  my  own  interests  ;  consequently  I 
won't  be  able  to  go  down  for  the  horse  as  I  promised,  but  I 
send  you,  in  my  place,  Tighe  a  Vohr,  and  you  know  as  well 
as  I  do  the  divil  a  better  judge  of  horse  flesh  in  the  county. 
He  will  bring  '  Charmer '  up  here  and  see  that  he  is  properly 
stabled.  Joe  Canty  is  booked  to  ride  him,  and  the  stakes  are 
all  right.  Have  no  fear,  for  we  have  heavy  backers,  and  let 
Tighe  have  the  horse  at  once.  Yours, 

MORTY  CARTER." 

"  Be  me  sowl,  Corny,  but  the  loike  o'  you  for  a  letther 
writer  isn't  in  the  counthry  !  "  and  Tighe  gazed  with  delighted 
admiration  at  the  little  man.  "  Me  mother  missed  it  entoire- 
ly,"  he  continued,  "  whin  she  didn't  become  Mrs.  O'Toole." 

Corny  was  violently  wiping  his  face  to  cover  his  blushing 
delight 

Tighe  continued  :  "  But  it'll  be  in  me  power,  an'  that  afore 
long,  to  place  afore  her  eyes  all  that  she  lost  whin  she  took 
Timothy  Carmody ! "  and  Tighe's  voice  suddenly  assumed  an 
indignant  energy. 

Mr.  O'Toole  was  in  a  glow  of  pleasure  from  the  bald  crown 
of  his  head  to  the  soles  of  his  ungainly  feet. 

Tighe  moved  to  the  bed  to  look  again  at  the  boy.  He  was 
still  sleeping,  a  slight  hectic  flush  on  his  cheeks,  and  the  rest 
of  his  face  as  white  as  the  bandage  which  bound  his  head. 

"  He's  as  pu.-ty  as  a  picther,"  said  Tighe  softly  to  Corny, 
who  had  also  noiselessly  approached,  "  an  you'll  moind  him 
well,  Corny ;  av  coorse,  if  he  should  get  worse,  you'll  have  to 
call  in  one  o*  thim  murtherin'  docthors  ;  an'  I  suppose,  too, 


A  STREET  ARAB.  ,7! 

the  minnit  he  can  sthir  at  all  he'll  be  for  makin1  his  way 
to  Father  O'Connor.  Thry  an'  kape  him  anyway  till  I  get 
back." 

Corny  promised  ;  indeed  the  little  man,  to  use  one  of  hi& 
own  expressions,  was  so  wedded  to  Tighe's  interests  now  thai 
he  would  spare  neither  time  nor  labor  in  his  service. 

"  Supposing  Maloney  should  refuse  you  the  horse,"  said 
Corny,  as  Tighe  stood  on  the  threshold  ready  to  depart. 

"  Supposin'  he  did,"  repeated  Tighe,  "  do  you  think  his  re- 
fusal'd  bother  me  ? — not  the  laste  bit.  I  win  tthrough  bolts  an' 
bars  afore  whin  I  was  in  a  loike  scrape,  an'  now  that  I  know 
ould  Maloney  has  a  horse  in  trim  for  the  race,  an'  that  ould 
Carther  is  safe  in  Dublin,  the  divil  himsel'  wouldn't  stop  me 
gettin'  possession  o'  the  baste  for  the  day  o'  the  ride." 

"  Will  you  stable  him  at  Bienner's  ?  "  asked  Corny  again. 

"  Faix,  I  will  not,"  was  the  reply.  "  Is  it  stable  him  where 
the  eyes  o'  ivery  sportin"  man  in  the  town'd  be  on  him,  an' 
mebbe  to  have  somethin'  thranspire  to  show  thim  the  deravin' 
game  I'm  playin'  ?  No,  Corny  ;  I  have  more  gumption  than 
that.  I'll  stable  him  outside  the  town  intoirely,  where  no 
one'll  be  the  wiser,  an'  where  I  can  go  ivery  day  au'  get  ac- 
quainted wid  him,  an'  foind  out  his  wake  pints,  an'  larn  if  he 
has  any  thricks.  An'  there's  another  thing,  Corny,  I'll  have 
to  attind  to,  an'  that's  Joe  Canty.  He'll  be  expectin*  the 
horse,  I  suppose,  an'  tatther  an'  ages  !  mebbe  he'd  be  goin' 
down  to  ould  Maloney's  to  have  a  look  at  the  baste,  if  he 
hasn't  gone  already.  Well,  I'll  vinture  on  a  settlemint  wid 
him  this  way  :  I'll  make  it  me  business  to  see  him  afther  I've 
seen  ould  Maloney,  an'  I'll  tell  him  that  the  horse'll  be  to  the 
fore  on  the  mornin'  o'  the  race  ;  that  ould  Maloney  is  a  quare 
soort  o'  ould  man, — an'  the  divil  a  lie  in  that — an"  so  perticler 
about  his  horse  that  he  won't  lave  it  out  o'  its  ov*n  stable  any 
sooner ;  an'  that  he's  so  crass,  an'  so  cantankersome,  he  won't 
have  anybody  comin'  down  here  to  look  at  the  baste,  swearin' 
if  they  do  that  he  won't  let  it  run.  I'll  tell  all  rhis  to  Mr 
Canty,  at  the  same  toime  makin'  it  appear  that  I'm  thrusted 


,7,  CARROLL  VDONOGHUB. 

intoirely  be  Carther  an*  Maloney,  an'  if  all  that  doesn't  do,  111 
depind  on  me  natural  wits  for  another  invention."  He  paused 
as  if  in  some  indecision,  resuming  in  a  moment :  "  The  thing 
that  bothers  me  most  jist  now  is  how  I'll  get  the  dress  for  the 
race — the  cap,  an*  the  jacket,  an'  the  toggery  that  makes  a 
man  look  as  if  the  wind  was  taken  out  o'  him  ;  but  111  think 
»'  that  on  me  way.  Good-by,  an'  take  care  o'  the  boy." 
He  hastily  departed  with  Shaun  at  bis  beds. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE   MISER   OF   DHROMMACOHOU. 

MR.  MALONEY,  or  "  ould  Ned  Maloney,"  as  he  was  called 
by  man,  woman,  and  child,  from  his  antiquated  dress,  which 
for  a  quarter  of  a  century  had  never  changed  a  seam  nor  a 
cut  of  its  fashion,  was  the  only  real  miser  of  which  the  little 
village  of  Dhrommacohol  could  boast.  Money  was  his  idol, 
and  money  he  worshipped  to  the  exclusion  of  every  other 
affection,  natural  or  acquired.  Neither  mass  nor  meeting  ever 
saw  him  ;  the  poor  feared  him,  and  the  neighbors  whose  deal- 
ings forced  them  into  contact  with  him  regarded  him  as  a 
sharp,  shrewd,  hard  man.  Report  spoke  of  him  as  being 
somewhat  better  educated  than  most  of  his  class,  yet  he  was 
never  known  to  invest  a  half-penny  in  even  a  newspaper. 
The  latter  he  borrowed  when  he  could,  and  when  he  was  un- 
able to  do  that  he  resigned  himself  to  the  privation.  He  had 
never  married,  and  his  few  kinspeople  had  been  long  since 
laid  at  rest  in  Kilboroglin  churchyard.  He  lived  alone,  spend- 
ing his  time,  the  people  said,  in  counting  the  gold  and  the 
pound  notes  which  he  had  made  in  former  days  by  running 
illicit  stills  and  smuggling  foreign  goods.  Some  good  people 
were  wont  to  cross  themselves  when  they  met  him,  as  if  he 
were  the  Evil  One  himself,  and  the  poor  said  he  would  never 
die  on  his  bed.  Old  Ned  smiled  grimly  when  he  saw  and 
heard  these  evidences  of  the  regard  in  which  he  was  held,  but 
all  produced  no  change  in  him.  The  only  person  for  whom 
he  seemed  to  care  was  Father  Meagher  ;  he  shrunk  from 
meeting  the  priest,  and  when  the  latter  would  force  his  pres- 
ence, as  he  often  did,  upon  the  miser  for  the  purpose  of  re- 
buke or  exhortation,  the  old  man  would  fall  on  his  knees, 
(173) 


,y4  CARROLL 

cross  himself,  and  swear  that  he'd  repent  before  he  died 
The  horse  had  come  into  his  possession  by  means  entirely  in 
accordance  with  Ned's  hard  practices.  The  owner  of  the 
animal,  a  neighbor  of  Maloney's,  and  in  desperate  straits  for 
money,  ventured  to  appeal  to  the  miser  for  a  loan  ;  it  was 
refused,  but  Ned,  with  his  habitual  cunning,  where  the  mat- 
ter involved  a  question  of  gain  to  himself,  and  in  view  of 
the  races  which  marked  certain  portions  of  the  year,  offered 
to  buy  the  horse.  There  was  no  alternative  for  the  unfort- 
unate owner,  and  a  bargain  was  at  length  made  which  left  old 
Ned  Maloney  in  possession  of  as  magnificent  a  racer  as  there 
was  in  any  stud  in  the  county.  To  everybody's  surprise  he 
built  a  better  stable  for  the  horse  than  he  had  a  house  for 
himself,  and  he  actually  hired  a  groom  that  the  animal  might 
be  kept  in  fine  condition.  To  Mortimer  Carter,  whose  fre- 
quent visits  to  Tralee,  and  whose  intimate  acquaintance  with 
the  sporting  characters  of  the  day  were  generally  known,  Ned 
Maloney  addressed  himself  in  order  to  negotiate  for  the  en- 
tering of  his  horse  in  the  coming  race.  There  was  little  diffi- 
culty ir*  accomplishing  that,  but  a  serious  trouble  remained — 
to  procure  a  good  rider.  Joe  Canty,  an  admirable  horseman, 
but  a  dare-devil  and  a  bravado,  was  already  engaged  to  ride 
for  the  English  soldier,  Garfield.  Carter,  however,  brought 
his  wits  and  his  money  into  action,  and  Canty  was  secured 
for  the  horse.  The  miser,  tempted  for  once  from  his  wonted 
extreme  parsimony  by  the  largeness  of  the  sums  which  Carter 
and  other  bettors  had  staked  upon  the  horse,  bet  a  considerable 
amount  himself,  as  well  as  opened  a  betting-book  ;  and  it  was 
with  extravagant  signs  of  satisfaction  that  he  frequently  in 
imagination  footed  the  amounts  which  were  to  swell  his 
already  well-filled  coffers  in  the  event  of  "  Charmer's  "  success. 
Such  was  the  man  to  whom  Tighe  a  Vohr,  accompanied  by 
Shaun,  was  quickly  wending  his  way.  The  abode  of  the  miser 
was  as  antiquated  and  ill  looking  as  himself.  A  general  shop 
in  which  he  drove  hard  bargains  with  those  who  were  forced 
from  some  necessity  to  deal  with  him  formed  the  entrance  to 


THE  MISER  OF  DHROMMACOHOL 


«7S 


the  abode  ;  and  back  of  this  in  a  dingy  room  he  cooked,  ate, 
and  slept,  though  in  addition  to  his  shop  he  owned  a  good- 
sized  and  well-stocked  farm.  On  Tighe's  entrance  he  came 
hurriedly  forth  from  the  dingy  apartment. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Maloney  ?  Glory  be  to  God,  but 
you  sthand  it  well  to  be  lookin'  so  young  at  yer  toime  o'  life  !  " 
and  Tighe  seized  the  miser's  not  over-willing  hand,  and  gave 
it  a  hearty  shake. 

Mr.  Maloney  was  a  tall,  powerful  man,  with  a  stoop  in  his 
shoulders,  and  iron-gray  hair  framing  a  hard,  massive  face. 
He  had  black,  glittering  eyes,  set  deep  under  eyebrows  that 
met  so  heavily  and  arched  so  little  as  to  appear  like  a  con- 
tinuous line  across  his  forehead  ;  his  thin  lips  were  partly 
stretched  over  projecting  tusk-like  yellow  teeth,  and  his  promi- 
nent cheek-bones,  and  triangular-shaped  brow  made  up  a  face 
at  once  remarkable,  sinister,  and  repulsive.  His  age  might 
be  sixty,  or  more,  but  the  giant  frame  gave  evidence  of  vigor 
enough  to  mark  a  much  less  advanced  period  of  life. 

Fortunately  for  Tighe,  there  had  never  been  any  unpleasant 
intercourse  between  himself  and  the  miser  ;  though  he  knew  the 
old  man  as  well,  and  disliked  him  as  thoroughly,  as  any  one  in 
the  village,  still  out  of  an  indolent  good  nature,  or  perhaps  be- 
cause opportunity  had  been  wanting,  he  had  never  betrayed 
in  the  miser's  presence  any  of  the  tokens  of  dislike  of  which 
others  were  so  lavish.  On  one  occasion,  when  a  mere  lad( 
with  his  wonted  obliging  disposition,  he  had  even  rendered 
some  trifling  service  to  the  old  man,  and  it  was  noticed  ever 
after  that  the  latter's  manner  to  Tighe  a  Vohr  was  marked  by 
more  civility  than  usually  characterized  it.  Now  he  answered 
with  a  slowness  which  betrayed  his  excessive  caution,  and 
which  evinced  his  indifference  to  Tighe's  compliment  to  hU 
looks  : 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Carmody,  I'm  pretty  well." 

Tighe  drew  forth  his  note.  "I've  been  in  Tralee,  thii 
while  back,"  he  said,  holding  the  note  between  his  fingers, 
"  watchin'  the  coorse  o'  the  bets  on  the  race  that's  comin'  off 


,76  CARROLL  VDONOQHUB. 

nixt  wake,  an'  if  yer  horse  don't  win,  Mr.  Maloney,  there* 
be  a  power  o'  losers." 

The  miser's  glittering  eyes  began  to  grow  in  brightness, 
44  You  don't  mean  to  say,  Mr.  Carmody,  that  there's  such  a 
number  of  backers  ?  " — even  his  voice  had  quickened, 

Tighe  saw  his  advantage  and  pursued  it.  "  I  do  that,  Mr. 
Maloney ;  an'  betune  you  an'  me,  an'  all  that  I  heerd  from 
Mr.  Carther  about  yer  horse,  the  divil  a  show  the  othersll 
have  alongside  o'  him  at  all." 

"  How  many  are  entered  for  the  race,  Mr.  Carmody  ?  " 

That  was  an  item  of  information  with  which  Tighe  had 
singularly  overlooked  providing  himself,  but  without  a  mo- 
ment's hesitation  he  answered  :  "  Now,  since  Rody  Crane's 
filly  is  withdrawn,  it  laves  foive  ;  yis,  I  think  it's  foive  that'll 
run,  includin'  yer  own.  But  I  was  forgittin' :  Mr.  Carther  sint 
me  down  wid  this  to  you."  Proffering  the  note. 

The  miser  took  it  to  a  dim,  greasy  lamp,  and  read  it  appar- 
ently more  than  once. 

44  I  suppose  Carter  knows  best,"  he  said,  returning  to  Tighe  ; 
44  he  says  you  will  stable  him  properly,  but  I  wouldn't  trust 
him  without  his  groom.  I  shall  send  the  groom  with  him." 

"Very  well,  Mr.  Maloney,"  answered  Tighe,  apparently 
quite  satisfied,  though  the  groom  was  an  accession  of  which 
he  did  not  dream,  and  for  the  disposal  of  whom  he  was  sadly 
puzzled. 

44 1  shall  have  him  ready  for  you  to-morrow  morning,"  the 
miser  resumed  ;  "  will  that  be  time  enough  ? " 

44  Oh,  yes  ;  answered  Tighe  carelessly,  continuing  after  an 
instant's  pause :  "  Do  you  know  the  man  that's  to  ride  yer 
horse,  Mr.  Maloney — Joe  Canty  he's  called  ?  " 

44  No  ;  I  have  never  seen  him,  though  I  was  expecting  him 
down  next  week  to  see  the  horse  ;  but  I  suppose  it  will  be 
more  convenient  for  him  to  have  the  horse  in  Tralee.  I  un- 
derstand that  he  is  a  very  fine  horseman." 

44  The  divil  a  betther,  but "  Tighe's  fertile  brain  was 

hard  at  work — how  would  he  prevent  Joe  Canty's  visit  to  Mr. 
Maloney? 


THE  MISER  OP  DHROMMACOHOL.  ,7y 

44  But  what,  Mr.  Carmody  ?  M  The  glistening  eyes  weie  fast- 
ened unpleasantly  on  Tighe's  face. 

"  Mr.  Maloney," — Tighe  took  a  step  forward,  and  assuming 
an  expression  indicative  of  severe  mental  distress,  he  said  in  a 
lower  tone  than  he  had  previously  used  :  "  I  heerd  somethin* 
to-day  that  med  me  feel  purty  bad  iver  since  ;  an'  all  the  way 
down  here  I've  been  houldin'  an  argymint  wid  mesel'  whether 
£  ought  to  tell  you  or  not ;  it  was  in  a  saycret  it  was  revaled 
to  me  be  a  sarvint  o'  one  o'  the  spoortin'  min  ;  it  consarns  you, 
Mr.  Maloney,  but  I'm  loth  to  tell,  for  mebbe  it's  none  o' 
me  business  afther  all  ;  an*  I'm  aqually  loth  to  kape  it,  for  thin 
I'll  be  lookin'  at  an  honest  man  loike  yersel'  losin'  hapes  o' 
money." 

"  Losing  heaps  of  money  !  "  the  miser  wildly  repeated,  and 
his  giant  frame  trembled  like  an  aspen  ;  he  clutched  Tighe's 
hands  with  his  bony  fingers.  "  Tell  me,  Mr.  Carmody  ;  what 
did  you  hear  ? " 

"  Och,  what'll  I  do  at  all,  at  all  ? "  cried  Tighe,  in  well- 
feigned  distress ;  "  och,  why  did  I  spake  an'  it  a  saycret ;  sure 
I'll  only  be  gittin'  mesel'  in  throuble  !  " 

"  Tell  me,  Mr.  Carmody,"  repeated  the  miser,  tightening  his 
trembling  grasp  of  Tighe's  hands. 

"  Will  you  kape  the  saycret  too,  Mr.  Maloney,  if  I  tell  you— 
will  you  swear  afore  Heaven  that  you'll  niver  revale  it,  no 
matther  what  comes  or  goes  ?" 

"  I  will,  Mr.  Carmody  ;  I'll  do  anything  for  you,  only  tell 
me." 

"Thin  down  on  yer  knees  an*  repate  what  I  say." 

The  large  form  knelt  abjectly  before  Tighe,  while  Shaun, 
close  by  his  master's  side,  stood  sharply  watching ;  at  the 
first  grasp  of  Tighe's  hands  by  the  miser  the  dog  had  sprung 
from  a  comfortable  couch  which  he  found  on  an  old  rug  to 
Tighe's  side,  and  he  only  waited  further  demonstration  of 
force  toward  his  master  on  the  part  of  the  old  man,  to  spring 
at  the  latter's  throat. 

"  I  swear ,"  said  Tighe  solemnly. 


i7g  CARROLL  VDONOGHUE. 

"  I  swear, "  repeated  the  kneeling  man,  in  a  voice  that 

•hook  as  much  as  did  his  powerful  frame. 

"  Afore  Almighty  God,  an'  all  the  angels  an'  saints  this 
noight, " 

Again  the  trembling  repetition  from  the  miser. 

"  That  I,  Ned  Maloney,  will  never  revale  to  man  nor  mortal 
a  syllable  o*  what  Tim  Carmody  is  goin'  to  tell  me  ;  if  I  do 
may  me  sowl  burn  in  hell's  fire  foriver !  " 

It  was  all  faithfully  repeated,  and  Mr.  Maloney  was  allowed 
to  rise. 

"Well,  the  saycret  is  this,"  said  Tighe  :  "  Joe  Canty  is  to 
be  arristed  for  debt ;  he's  been  thryin'  to  stave  off  his  credit- 
ors till  the  race  would  be  over,  but  there's  one  crusty  old  chap 
that  has  a  grudge  agin'  Joe,  an'  he's  detarmined  to  take  it  out 
o'  the  poor  fellow  in  more  ways  than  one.  He's  goin'  to  wait 
till  the  very  mornin'  o'  the  race,  an*  it's  betune  a  couple  o' 
peelers  poor  Joe  will  foind  himsel',  instead  o'  on  the  back  o' 
yer  horse." 

The  miser's  glittering  eyes  were  distended  till  they  seemed 
twice  their  size,  and  his  wide  mouth,  partially  open,  disgust- 
ingly revealed  his  yellow  teeth. 

Tighe  continued  :  "  If  you  want  to  take  the  chances  o1 
Joe  Canty's  arrist,  Mr.  Maloney,  an'  let  things  go  on  as  they 
are,  why,  well  an'  good — I'll  have  nothin1  more  to  say  ;  but  if 
you'll  take  another  rider  for  yer  horse,  I'm  yer  man  !  " 

The  miser  started  back  as  if  the  suddenness  and  unfitness 
of  the  proposition  had  overcome  him.  Tighe  followed  him, 
assuming  an  energetic,  independent  air. 

**  I'll  win  the  money  for  yer  backers,  Mr.  Maloney  ;  do  you 
think  I'm  not  able  ?  thrust  yer  moind  back,  an'  see  if  you  can 
remimber  me  iver  losin*  a  race  that  I  was  engaged  in,  even 
wid  the  best  spoortin'  min  to  the  fore.  Don't  I  know  ivery 
inch  o'  the  counthry  they're  goin'  to  ride  nixt  Tuesday,  an' 
can't  I  judge  a  horse  from  his  snaffle  to  his  fetlock  ?  How 
and  iver,  Mr.  Maloney,  I'll  have  no  more  to  say  in  the  matther  ; 
you're  bound  to  kape  the  saycret,  an'  as  for  the  rest,  you  can 
olaze  rersel'.  Ill  be  here  in  the  mornin'  for  the  horse." 


THE  MISER  OF  DHROMMACOHOL. 


179 


"Stay  a  moment,  Mr.  Carmody,"  besought  the  miser, 
*  give  me  time  to  consider  the  matter." 

"  There's  no  considerin'  to  be  done,"  replied  Tighe  half 
impatiently  ;  "  the  matther  is  as  plain  as  a,  b,  c, — ayther  take 
yer  risks  wid  Joe  Canty  to  foind  him  arristed  on  the  mornin' 
o'  the  race,  an'  yer  horse,  av  coorse,  withdrawn  (for  it  would 
be  too  late  thin  to  change  things),  an'  thim  that's  bet  on  the 
other  horses'll  be  only  too  glad  o'  the  evint,  for  it'll  be  some- 
thin'  in  their  favor,  an'  you  may  be  sure  it  isn't  for  yer  in- 
therests  they'll  be  carin' ;  you  can  do  that  I  say,  or  on  the 
other  hand  you  can  jist  put  Joe  Canty  off  whin  he  comes 
down  here  to  see  the  horse  by  sayin'  you  won't  have  him 
looked  at  till  the  mornin'  o'  the  race  ;  he'll  think  you're  a  bit 
cracked,  mebbe,  or  the  loike,  but  what  odds'll  that  make  as 
long  as  you've  some  one  to  ride  him  that'll  secure  yer  money  ? 
An'  for  that  matther,  I  can  go  to  him  wid  a  message  from  you, 
biddin'  him  not  to  come  down  here,  that  the  horse'll  be  ready 
for  him  on  the  mornin'  o'  the  race,  an'  that  he  can't  see  him 
afore  ;  that'll  kape  him  from  inthrudin'  on  us  till  we're  ready 
for  him  ;  he'll  think  iverything  is  all  roight,  an'  in  the  mane- 
toime  I'll  have  me  name  booked  as  if  I  had  a  horse  to  ride  in 
the  place  o'  Rody  Crane's  filly  that  I  tould  you  was  withdrawn. 
I  can  do  that  aisily,  as  long  as  I  do  it  in  toime,  an'  the  lists 
won't  be  closed  till  to-morrow  evenin*.  Thin,  on  Tuesday 
nixt,  when  Mr.  Joe  Canty  foinds  himsel'  on  the  way  to  the 
jail,  I  can  sthand  for'ard  to  take  his  place  ;  be  rayson  o'havin' 
me  name  booked  they  can't  object,  an'  I  can  make  it  appear 
how  I'm  a  frind  o'  yours,  an'  couldn't  sthand  by  an'  let  you 
be  thrated  in  such  a  manner  as  that  ;  an'  niver  fear  but  iveiy 
one  o'  the  bettors  on  our  side'll  be  ready  to  back  me.  Now, 
understhand,  Mr.  Maloney,  it's  no  intherest  o'  moine  one  way 
or  the  other — it'll  nayther  put  a  pinny  in  me  pocket,  nor  will  it 
take  a  pinny  out  o'  it ;  but  I  couldn't  sthand  by  quietly  an' 
let  a  man  be  bate  out  o'  the  sum  o'  money  you'll  lose  nixt 
Tuesday,  whin  it  was  in  me  power  to  purvint  it." 

The  miser's  eyes  seemed  to  glitter  through  Tighe,  so  bright 


,g0  CARROLL  O'DONOGHUB. 

and  so  continuous  was  their  sparkle,  while  he  listened  to  the 
rapidly-delivered  assertions.  Tighe  had  a  dim  idea  that  hi» 
arguments  were  very  illogical,  but  he  trusted  that  the  volu- 
bility and  rapidity  with  which  they  were  delivered  would  so 
becloud  the  old  man's  brain  as  to  leave  him  with  little  power 
of  reasoning  beyond  the  fact  that  if  he  did  not  accede  to  his 
visitor's  proposition  he  would  be  sure  to  sustain  a  great  pe- 
cuniary loss.  Tighe's  wish  seemed  to  be  gratified  ;  the  miser 
was  confused  by'the  rambling  statement,  which  his  ignorance 
of  sporting  affairs  made  all  the  more  rambling  and  incoher- 
ent to  him,  while  at  the  same  time  he  was  impressed  with 
Tighe's  forcible  and  apparently  honest  manner. 

"  I  should  like  to  communicate  with  Mr.  Carter,"  he  ob- 
served, his  whole  manner  indicating  trouble  and  perplexity. 

"  What  for  ?  "  asked  Tighe  in  well-feigned  indignant  aston- 
ishment. "  Now,  Mr.  Maloney,  didn't  you  swear  solemnly 
afore  Heaven  that  yer  soul  moight  burn  foriver  in  hell's  fire 
if  you  revaled  a  syllable  o'  what  I  tould  you?  An'  for  what 
else'd  you  be  writin'  to  Carther  for  ?  If  I  tould  the  saycret 
to  you  to  save  yer  bit  o'  money  from  bein'  thricked  out  o' 
you,  that's  not  sayin'  that  I'm  goin'  to  bethray  intoirely  the 
confidence  that  was  put  in  me  ;  an'  besides,  Mr.  Carther 
hasn't  the  money  at  stake  that  you  have,  an'  he  won't  be  the 
loser  that  you  will.  But  there's  one  condition  I  was  for- 
gettin  " — the  last  words  were  owing  to  one  of  Tighe's  sud- 
den thoughts,  and  with  his  wonted  quickness  he  determined 
to  act  upon  it,  though  it  was  shadowed  with  some  misgiving ; 
— "  if  I  ride  for  you,  you'll  have  to  give  me  the  money  for  the 
jockey's  dress.  I  can  have  it  med  in  the  town  be  givin'  the 
order  in  toime." 

The  miser's  brow  knitted. 

"  I  see,  Mr.  Maloney,"  resumed  Tighe,  "  you're  not  sathis- 
fied,  an'  I'll  not  force  you  ;  the  risk  is  yer  own,  an'  I  have  a 
clane  conscience  now  ;  I've  discharged  me  duty  loike  an  hon- 
est man,  so  I'll  bid  you  good  evenin'." 

Again  he  turned  to  depart,  and   he   had  almost  reached 


THE  MISER  OF  DHROMMACOHOL.  ,8X 

the  door  of  the  little  shop  when  the  old  man  hurried  after 
him. 

"One  moment,  Mr.  Carmody;  how  much  money  will  thii 
dress  cost  ? " 

"  Oh,  the  matther  o*  a  pound  or  so,"  answered  Tighe,  look- 
ing as  if  he  were  very  unwilling  to  be  longer  detained  ;  "  but 
I'd  rather  you'd  dhrop  it  all  now,  Mr.  Maloney ;  to  ride  for 
you  will  only  be  throuble  an'  inconvanience  for  mesel'.  I 
didn't  think  o'  it  afore,  but  now  that  I'm  givin'  the  matther 
reflection,  it'll  be  best  for  me  not  to  do  it.  Agin  I  bid  you  a 
very  good  evenin',  Mr.  Maloney." 

He  turned  quickly  and  shot  out  of  the  open  doorway.  The 
miser  was  after  him,  out  on  the  road,  begging  him  in  an  ab- 
ject manner  to  return.  "  I  will  give  you  a  pound,  Mr.  Car- 
mody,"— and  he  fumbled  in  his  breast. 

Tighe  returned  with  him  to  the  shop,  watching  with  no 
slight  inward  satisfaction  the  dirty  leather  wallet  slowly  and 
reluctantly  brought  forth.  He  turned  his  back  to  Tighe  while 
he  opened  it,  and  when  at  last  he  faced  Tighe  a  Vohr  holding 
out  the  required  amount,  his  hand  trembled  so  that  it  seemed 
as  if  the  bank-note  would  drop  from  his  fingers.  Tighe  took 
it,  pocketed  it  carefully,  and  then  with  a  hurried  air,  as  if 
anxious  to  make  up  for  lost  time,  he  said  : 

"  Now,  Mr.  Maloney,  I'll  be  here  bright  an*  airly  in  the 
mornin'  for  the  horse,  an*  do  you  tell  the  groom  to  be  bidable 
to  me  directions.  Thin,  whin  I  get  to  Tralee,  an'  see  the 
horse  properly  stabled,  I'll  make  it  me  business  to  call  on  Mr. 
Canty,  an'  deliver  yer  message  to  him  ;  an'  if  he  persists  in 
comin'  down  here  afther  that  do  you  act  the  part  I  prescribed 
for  you.  Are  you  quite  ready  an'  willin',  Mr.  Maloney,  to  do 
all  that  ?  no  hesitation  now,  but  spake  up  loike  a  man." 

"  Yes,"  answered  old  Ned,  as  if  the  monosyllable  was  choked 
out  of  him. 

"  Very  well  thin  ;  an'  mebbe  whin  you're  the  gainer  o'  as 
many  pounds  as  I  have  holes  in  me  caubeen, — "  pointing  to  his 
tattered  head- gear — "  you'll  have  cause  to  be  thankful  to  Tighe 
a  Vohr." 


,8a  CARROLL  ODONOQHUB. 

There  was  no  solicitation  this  time  to  return,  and  Tighe, 
with  Shaun  at  his  heels,  was  soon  taking  hasty  strides  toward 
his  mother's  humble  home. 

44 1  may  as  well  kill  two  birds  with  one  stone,"  he  murmured 
to  himself  ;  "  I'll  see  me  mother,  an'  thry  if  I  can't  put  in  a 
good  word  for  Corny  O'Toole  ;  it  will  rise  the  spirits  o'  the 
little  man,  an'  kape  him  me  constant  frind  ;  an'  faith,  mebbe 
I'd  need  him  agin  in  the  way  o'  writin'  or  the  loike." 


CHAPTER  XXIt 

CARTER   VISITS   DUBLIN. 

MORTIMER  CARTER  was  desperate.  The  fact  that  his  per- 
fidy seemed  so  well  known  to  both  clergymen  caused  a  hor- 
rible fear  that  through  their  united  efforts  something  might 
occur  to  intercept  or  destroy  his  plans.  He  chafed  at  the 
bare  possibility,  and  as  he  walked  the  narrow  confines  of  his 
temporary  lodging  after  his  meeting  with  the  little  party  from 
Dhrommacohol,  he  muttered  to  himself,  with  the  savage  and 
threatening  look  of  a  wild  beast  disturbed  from  its  lair  : 

"  A  lifetime  in  the  one  pursuit  !  I  failed  with  her  mother, 
but  by  the  powers  I  shall  have  her,  though  the  devil  should 
have  my  soul  the  minute  after !  She  turned  her  face  away 
from  me  to-day ;  I  am  a  traitor  and  a  worm  in  her  sight  ! " 
He  clinched  his  hands  and  paced  the  room  with  quicker  strides. 
"  Oh,  to  bring  her  proud  head  down  !  but  it  shall  be  brought 
down,  and  that  soon.  Rick  will  be  prepared  to  do  what  I 
ask  him  when  I  return,  and  if  I  can  succeed  in  getting  Car- 
roll to  try  to  escape  again  perhaps  he  will  be  shot  in  the  ven- 
ture, and  that  will  be  quicker  for  me  than  to  wait  for  his 
hanging." 

He  ceased  walking,  and  standing  by  the  low  mantel,  folded 
his  arms  upon  it  and  gave  himself  up  to  moody  thought. 
Captain  Dennier's  manner  to  him  on  the  occasion  of  their  last 
interview  had  been  productive  of  many  a  doubt  and  fear  ;  he 
regretted,  also,  having  given  the  Fenian  document  to  that 
officer  ;  he  could  have  cursed  bitterly  for  not  being  himself 
the  bearer  of  it  to  Dublin  ;  then,  the  promised  reward — there 
was  an  ambiguity  about  even  Lord  Heathcote's  assurance  to 
him  which  did  not  point  so  surely  to  the  compensation  as  tht 
(183) 


,84  CARROLL  VDONOQHUR 

traitor  desired.  What  if  on  the  completion  of  his  web  of 
treachery  he  should  find  that  he  himself  had  been  caught  in 
the  meshes  !  the  thought  was  maddening,  and  goaded  to  an 
extremity  to  which  in  calmer  moments  he  would  scarcely 
have  proceeded,  he  determined  to  go  immediately  to  Dublin. 
Rumor  had  it  that  thither  Lord  Heathcote  had  repaired  after 
his  last  visit  to  Tralee  ;  he  would  see  that  high  military  official, 
and  have  a  distinct  settlement,  as  well  as  an  assurance  that 
the  paper  which  he  had  given  to  Captain  Dennier  had  been 
received  by  the  proper  authorities.  He  remembered  the  race 
for  which  he  had  entered  Ned  Maloney's  horse,  but  a  mo- 
ment's thought  convinced  him  that  that  need  prove  no  obstacle 
to  his  journey  ;  the  preliminaries  of  the  race  were  all  arranged, 
and  Joe  Canty,  now  that  he  was  really  secured  for  the  animal, 
was  too  good  a  horseman  to  require  any  supervision  ;  beside, 
the  numerous  backers,  as  interested  as  Morty  was  himself, 
were  sufficient  to  guard  the  interests  of  all  concerned.  He 
would  be  obliged  to  break  his  promise  of  bringing  the  horse 
up  to  Tralee,  but  old  Maloney  could  do  that  himself,  or  fail- 
ing to  do  it,  he  could  trust  the  animal  to  the  groom  for  the 
journey.  These  points  settled  in  his  mind,  he  hastily  wrote 
the  note  which  he  subsequently  intrusted  to  the  boy  who  was 
injured  by  the  overthrown  gig,  and  then  he  rapidly  indited 
another  to  Joe  Canty,  which  he  also  sent  by  hand  ;  the  latter 
message  simply  stated  his  intended  absence  from  Tralee  and 
the  uncertainty  of  the  precise  time  of  his  return.  To  Dublin 
then  he  set  his  face,  only  to  find,  when  he  reached  the  capital 
and  repaired  to  the  castle,  that  there  were  more  difficulties  in 
the  way  of  seeing  Lord  Heathcote  than  he  had  anticipated. 
He  chafed  at  the  delay  which  involved  a  loss  of  days  and  ren- 
dered him  more  desperate  and  eager.  It  dawned  upon  him 
at  last  that  the  difficulties  in  the  way  of  seeing  his  lordship 
were  interposed  by  the  latter  himself  ;  then  he  sent  up  an  im- 
portunate card,  and  after  still  further  delay  he  was  conducted 
to  the  nobleman.  Dignified  and  cold  to  sternness,  Lord  Heath- 
cote received  his  visitor  ;  but  the  latter  had  fortified  himself 


CARTER    VISITS  DUBLIN.  185 

too  strongly  to  be  abashed  by  the  haughty  presence,  and  hav- 
ing made  his  obeisance,  he  responded  to  the  curt : 

"Well,  Mr.  Carter,  the  object  of  this  visit?"  by : 

"I  have  ventured  to  intrude  upon  your  lordship  in  order  to 
settle  serious  doubts  which  have  arisen  in  my  mind." 

"  Regarding  what  ? "  asked  Lord  Heathcote,  eying  him 
coldly,  and  for  an  instant  toying  with  one  of  the  medals  on 
his  breast. 

"Regarding  the  paper  containing  information  of  the  Irish 
Republic  which  I  gave  by  your  order  to  Captain  Dennier." 

"  I  can  quiet  your  fears  about  that,"  was  the  cold  response. 
"  The  paper,  in  a  sealed  cover,  was  delivered  at  the  castle, 
and  it  is  now,  with  other  sealed  papers,  in  possession  of  the 
proper  authorities  ;  it  will  play  an  important  part  on  the  trial 
of  the  prisoners  who  are  now  confined  in  the  county  jail  at 
Tralee.  Have  you  any  further  business,  Mr.  Carter  ?  " 

Still  unabashed  by  the  increasing  sternness  of  the  noble- 
man's tone,  or  the  cold  manner  which  so  plainly  signified  a 
desire  for  the  visitor's  departure,  Carter  said  : 

"  Captain  Dennier's  own  manner  to  me,  stigmatizing  me  as 
a  traitor,  and  showing  by  his  words  that  his  sympathies  were 
more  with  this  country  than  with  his  own,  led  me  to  fear  that 
there  might  be  foul  play  with  the  document." 

There  was  a  knitting  of  his  lordship's  brows  for  an  instant, 
and  a  firmer  closing  of  his  rigid  mouth  ;  but  he  made  no  re- 
sponse. Carter,  hurried  by  his  short-sighted  eagerness  into  a 
remark  which  should  compel  some  reply  from  the  haughty, 
impassible  being  before  him,  continued  : 

"  Believe  me,  your  lordship,  incapable  of  saying  aught  which 
might  lessen  the  affection  you  bear  Captain  Dennier  ;  as 
your " 

"  Cease  !  "  the  nobleman  thundered,  bounding  out  of  his 
chair,  and  standing  before  Carter  with  so  stern  and  command- 
ing a  mien  that  the  traitor  trembled  and  shrunk.  "Yean 
have  passed  since  that  time,"  continued  his  lordship  in  the 
same  voice  ;  "  how  have  you  penetrated  my  secret  now — 


j&S  CARROLL  VDONOGHUR 

•peak  ! "  The  last  word  was  uttered  in  a  still  more  peremp- 
tory tone,  as  Carter,  wholly  unprepared  for  the  anger  he  had 
aroused,  and  vainly  wishing  he  had  been  silent,  stood  in  cow- 
ering hesitation.  But  that  peremptory  tone  would  brook 
neither  delay  nor  evasion.  He  forced  himself  to  meet  the 
keen  eyes  bent  upon  him  as  if  they  would  pierce  him  through, 
and  he  answered  with  a  painful  tremor  in  his  voice  : 

*'  The  secret  of  those  years  ago,  your  lordship,  has  always 
been  safe  with  me  ;  I  have  never  revealed  it,  and  I  should  not 

have  known  this  now  but  for  the  gossip  of  the  barracks " 

He  paused. 

"  And  that  gossip  ?  "  demanded  his  lordship  ;  "  what  did  it 
reveal  ? " 

"  Your  singular  interest  in  the  young  officer,  an  interest  that 
extended  over  years,  and  the  resemblance  between  his  manner 
and  your  own — how  it  was  marked  by  the  same  sternness  and 
power  of  command  ;  it  flashed  upon  me  then,  your  lordship, 
that  Captein  Dennier  was " 

"  Stop  !  "  almost  thundered  the  nobleman  ;  "  never  must 
tongue  v'ter  that  word  !  it  brings  back  the  disgrace,  the  pol- 
lution of  that  unfortunate,  that  miserable  past." 

Un'ii'ppily  excited,  despite  his  evident  determination  to  re- 
main calm,  he  paced  the  room  with  nervous  and  hurried 
treac*.  Carter  watched  him,  regaining  confidence  and  assur- 
ance as  he  saw  this  evidence  of  his  power  to  move  that  stern 
and  haughty  soul.  Suddenly  he  stopped  before  Carter ;  he 
had  subdued  his  emotions  and  his  mien  had  recovered  its 
calmness  . 

"Hav«  you  betrayed  this  knowledge,  these  suspicions" — 
with  an  emphasis  on  the  last  word,  as  if  he  would  force  the 
belief  upon  Carter  that  the  latter's  mind,  ignorant  of  the  true 
facts  in  the  case,  held  suspicions  alone — "  of  yours,  to  any 
one  else  ?  have  you  hinted  of  them  to  Captain  Dennier  ?  " 

"  No,  your  lordship  ;  I  had  too  much  regard  for  you  ;  I 
would  let  the  revelation  of  this  come  from  yourself  ;  it  wa* 
not  my  place  to  know  aught." 


CARTER    VISITS   DUBLIN.  jg7 

"  You  have  acted  well ; "  for  an  instant  there  was  a  distinct 
softening  of  the  harsh  voice  ;  the  next,  however,  it  had  re- 
covered its  repellent  tone  ;  "  why  did  you  not  tell  me  what 
you  have  told  me  to-day,  on  the  occasion  of  our  first  meeting 
in  Tralee  garrison,  when  you  brought  yourself  to  my  notice 
and  reverted  to  our  acquaintance  twenty-seven  years  ago  ? " 

"  I  had  not  then,  your  lordship,  penetrated  the  present  state 
of  affairs." 

Lord  Heathcote  was  silent  for  a  moment,  looking  keenly 
at  Carter  the  while.  At  length  he  said  : 

"  You  will  maintain  the  same  secrecy  for  the  future  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  my  lord  ;  "  and  Carter  bowed  as  low  as  his  cor- 
pulent form  would  permit  him  to  do. 

Lord  Heathcote,  evidently  considering  the  interview  ended, 
turned  aside  to  summon  an  attendant  for  the  purpose  of  con- 
ducting Mr.  Carter  out ;  but  the  latter  had  another,  and  to 
him,  a  most  important  item  of  business. 

"  Will  your  lordship  kindly  re-assure  me  about  the  reward 
for  my  information  ?  Captain  Dennier  referred  me  to  you  for 
conference  about  it,  though  he  told  me  of  your  promise  to 
attend  to  it  on  the  conclusion  of  the  trials." 

"  Weil," — there  was  an  accent  of  impatience  in  his  lordship's 
tone — "  what  assurance  do  you  wish  ?  " 

"  That  you  will  use  your  influence  to  secure  for  me  the 
amount  of  money  which  I  named  when  I  had  the  honor  of  a 
previous  interview  with  your  lordship." 

"  Your  price  is  high,"  said  Lord  Heathcote  ;  "  what  do  you 
propose  doing  with  such  a  sum  ?  " 

Carter  replied  :  "  To  purchase  the  encumbered  estate  of 
the  O'Donoghue  family." 

His  lordship,  without  answering,  resumed  his  seat,  covering 
his  face  with  his  hand,  and  gave  himself  up  to  thought ;  Carter 
patiently  waited,  a  complacent  smile  half  curling  the  corners 
of  his  mouth.  "  The  O'Donoghue  family  ? "  repeated  his 
lordship  at  length,  looking  up  ;  "  the  family,  I  presume,  from 
whom  comes  this  young  Australian  convict  who  was  recap- 


,88  CARROLL  &DONOOHUK 

tared    on   information    furnished,    I    believe,   indirectly   by 
you." 

Carter  bowed,  and  the  nobleman  continued  : 
"The  estate  became  encumbered  by  debt." 
Again  Carter  bowed  ;  Lord   Heathcote  still  continued  : 
"  And  you  would  install  yourself  on  this  estate  ?    Well,  Car- 
ter, if  this  last  information,  which  you  say  is  so  valuable  and 
the  most  important  you  have  yet  given,  proves  to  be  all  that 
you  claim  for  it,  I  have  little  doubt  of  your  getting  the  reward 
you  have  stipulated." 

Carter  appeared  to  be  satisfied ;  he  was  profuse  in  his 
thanks  and  bows,  and  when  he  left  the  nobleman's  presence 
it  was  with  a  mind  considerably  relieved,  and  with  courage 
entirely  renewed  for  bis  nefarious  plant. 


CHAPTER  XXIIL 

TIGHE    A    VOHR'S   PROPOSAL    TO    HIS   MOTHE*. 

WITH  a  comparatively  light  heart,  having  accomplished 
much  of  his  self-imposed  mission  more  successfully  than  he 
had  dared  to  hope,  Tighe  a  Vohr  trudged  on  to  his  mother's 
house  ;  he  did  not  rebuke  Shaun's  gambols,  and  if  it  was  not 
for  the  weight  upon  his  heart  caused  by  the  thought  of  his 
imprisoned  young  master,  he  could  have  broken  into  the 
merriest  of  glees  ;  as  it  was,  the  strain  died  in  his  throat,  and  a 
prayer  for  poor,  unhappy  Carroll  found  its  way  to  his  lipt 
instead. 

"  Wisha,  welcome,  Tighe  asthore  !  " 

And  Tighe  a  Vohr,  to  his  agreeable  surprise,  found  himself, 
instead  of  being  scolded  and  reproached,  as  he  had  half  ex- 
pected, heartily  embraced  by  his  fond,  simple  old  mother. 
Curious  to  know  what  could  have  made  her  conduct  so  differ- 
ent from  that  which  he  had  anticipated,  he  said  slyly,  when 
released  from  her  loving  clasp  :  "Why  thin,  what  has  happen- 
ed to  you,  mother,  that  you're  not  angry  wid  me  for  shtayin* 
away  so  long  ?  " 

"  Because  I  know  all  about  it,  Tighe,  darlin';  wasn't  I  up 
to  Father  Meagher's,  an'  didn't  his  riverince  tell  me  himsel' 
that  he  was  plazed  wid  you,  an'  that  he  had  great  hopes  in- 
toirely  o'  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that's  it  ! "  said  Tighe,  slowly,  as  if  he  was  taking 
time  to  understand  his  mother's  explanation  ;  the  same  while 
he  was  thinking  how  changed  would  be  Father  Meagher's 
notes  of  praise  could  the  worthy  priest  know  the  number  of 
falsehoods  recently  told  by  Tighe,  and  wondering,  also,  if  the 
old  lady  knew  of  his  late  visit  to  Dhrommacohol  when  he  and 


,90  CARROLL  VDONOQHUK 

Moira  employed  Shaun  to  such  effectual  purpose.  If  she  did, 
it  was  still  more  surprising  that  the  vials  of  her  wrath  were 
not  poured  upon  his  devoted  head,  for  upon  that  occasion  he 
had  departed  without  paying  her  the  semblance  of  a  visit. 
But  it  was  evident  that  she  did  not  know,  for  she  made  no  allu- 
sion to  it ;  Moira,  probably  suspecting  that  Tighe  did  not  call 
upon  his  mother,  had  prudently  refrained  from  mentioning  the 
visit.  His  mother  seemed,  however,  to  have  particulars  of 
his  meeting  with  Father  Meagher  and  the  young  ladies  in 
Tralee,  and  to  know  about  his  fortunate  recovery  of  Shaun  ; 
and  at  last  she  turned  to  bestow  a  little  of  her  affectionate 
attention  upon  the  dog.  The  animal  never  responded  de- 
monstratively to  any  attentions,  however  affectionate,  but 
Tighe's,  and  now  he  received  all  Mrs.  Carmody's  pats  on  the 
head,  and  stroking  down  of  his  long  straggling  hair,  and  all 
her  phrases  of  welcome,  such  as  :  "  I'm  rale  glad  to  see  you, 
Shaun — an'  it's  a  foine  dog  you  are  !  "  with  a  gravity  quite 
befitting  his  canine  dignity.  With  pride  and  delight  the  old 
woman  learned  that  her  son  would  remain  until  morning ; 
and  she  hastened  to  put  fresh  touches  to  the  room  which  she 
always  kept  prepared  for  him,  and  to  set  out  the  remains  of 
hei  own  frugal  supper.  Tighe  ate  and  drank,  and  took  so 
touch  pains  to  be  his  own  old  bright,  witty  self,  that  the  sim- 
ple soul  was  lost  between  admiration  and  affection.  Tighe 
read  it  all  in  her  face,  and  he  was  well  pleased,  for  in  that 
happy  state  of  mind,  she  would  better  receive  the  communi- 
cation he  was  about  to  make  :  a  communication  that  was 
costing  him  more  apprehension  than  his  visit  to  old  Ned 
Maloney  had  done. 

"  Mother,"  he  said,  taking  one  of  her  hands  affectionately 
in  his  own,  "  it's  very  lonely  for  you  here  wid  me  away  so 
much." 

"  It  is,  Tighe,"  replied  the  innocent  old  soul  ;  "  but  I'm 
contint  so  long  as  no  harrum  comes  to  you,  an'  that  I  can  sec 
you  once  in  a  while." 

Tighe  shook  his  head.     "  It's  many  an  anxious  thought  I 


TIQHE  A    VOHR'8  PROPOSAL  TO  HIS  MOTHER. 


191 


have  o'  you,  mother,  whin  I'm  away  from  you,  an'  somehow  I 
can't  help  feelin',  that  is  " — glancing  furtively  into  her  eyes, 
and  experiencing  a  sudden  dread  of  coming  to  the  point — 
"that  is,  thinkin',  havin'  a  thought — a  soort  o'  an  idea — jist  a 

somethin'  that" disconcerted  by  his  fast-growing  fears, 

he  paused  outright. 

"That  what  ?  say  it  out,  Tighe,"  entreated  the  old  lady. 

But  Tighe  still  found  it  difficult  to  bring  himself  to  an  ac- 
curate expression  ;  he  continued  to  beat  about  the  bush.  "  A 
soort  o'  a  feelin'  that  somehow  comes  round  me  heart — a 
squeezin'  loike  that  makes  me  think  o'  I  don't  know  what — a 
sinsation " 

"  Why,  thin,  Tim  Carmody,  what  are  you  dhrivin'  at  ? " 
broke  in  the  old  lady,  too  impatient  and  too  angry  to  hear 
further ;  "  what  do  you  mane  be  spakin'  in  such  riddles  to 
yer  poor  ould  mother?" 

"  Aisy,  mother,  awhile,"  coaxed  Tighe,  "  an'  I'll  tell  you  ; 
only  give  me  toime,  for  it's  a  delicate  subjict."  Then  straight- 
ening in  his  chair,  as  if  he  was  desperately  nerving  himself, 
he  continued  :  "  I  was  often  thinkin'  that  if  you  had  a  hus- 
band to  take  care  o'  you  whin  I'd  be  away " 

He  was  cut  short  by  a  half  shriek  from  his  mother,  accom- 
panied by  the  noise  of  the  falling  stool  which,  in  her  sudden 
rising  from  it,  she  had  upset  She  stood  before  him,  her  arms 
akimbo,  her  face  as  red  as  the  handkerchief  about  her  neck, 
and  the  frilled  borders  of  her  cap  shaking  threateningly  with 
every  indignant  word  she  uttered. 

"  Timothy  Carmody,  if  you  have  no  betther  word  for  yer 
ould  mother  than  an  insult  loike  that,  it'd  be  fitter  for  you  to 
shtay  in  the  barracks  you  kem  from.  It  was  wid  no  intintions 
o'  matrimony  a  second  toime  that  I  buried  yer  father,  God 
rest  his  sowl,  an'  it's  wid  no  sich  disrespect  o'  the  good  man 
in  his  grave  that  I've  been  a  widdy  all  these  years.  Oh,  that 
I  should  live  to  hear  me  own  son  axin'  me  to  marry !  " — sudden 
emotion  was  overcoming  her — "  me,  a  respectable  single,  for- 
lorn widdy,  nineteen  years  come  nixt  Candlemas  !  "  Quite 


I9,  CARROLL 

broken  down,  she  threw  her  apron  over  her  head  and  began  to 
sob. 

Tighe  was  sorely  puzzled  ;  he  could  cozen  Corny  O'Toole, 
he  could  manage  old  Maloney,  he  could  deceive  the  love-sick 
Garfield,  he  could  impose  on  Captain  Dennier,  and  he  had 
little  apprehension  of  being  able  to  make  Joe  Canty  swallow 
one  of  his  plausible  inventions,  but  how  to  win  his  mother 
was  entirely  beyond  him.  He  looked  ruefully  at  Shaun,  who 
seemed  to  understand  the  situation  and  to  sympathize  with 
his  master,  saying  to  the  dog  in  a  whispered  aside  which  the 
loudness  of  his  mother's  grief  prevented  her  from  hearing  : 

"  She's  a  woman,  Shaun,  an'  that  explains  it ;  if  she  was  a 
man  there'd  be  rayson  in  her  ;  but  the  wiraen  are  always  on- 
manageable.  Mother," — after  a  pause  during  which  Mrs.  Car- 
mody's  sobs  had  become  less  frequent — "  I'm  sorry  for  insultin' 
you,  but  it  was  out  o'  the  kindness  o'  me  heart  that  I  spoke  ; 
I  was  thinkin'  o'  the  poor  fellow  that's  heart-broken  wid  love 
o'  you." 

The  apron  suddenly  dropped,  and  the  sobbing  ceased. 

44  Yis,"  said  Tighe,  growing  hopeful  as  he  saw  the  sudden 
change  produced  by  his  last  remark,  "  it  was  for  his  sake 
that  I  vintured  on  me  onlucky  spache  to  you." 

44  Who  is  he  ?  "  interrupted  his  mother. 

44  No  less  than  Corny  O'Toole,"  blurted  Tighe,  rising  from 
his  chair,  and  standing  with  folded  arms  as  if  he  had  nerved 
himself  for  the  worst. 

There  was  a  pause,  during  which  Tighe  was  the  object  of  a 
look  of  withering  scorn  ;  then  there  burst  upon  him  in  ac- 
cents of  trembling  indignation : 

44  Corny  O'Toole,  is  it  ?  Bad  luck  to  yer  impidince,  Tim 
Carmody,  for  wantin'  to  throw  the  loike  o'  him  at  me  !  he 
hasn't  a  sowl  above  the  letthers  he  writes,  an'  he's  as  ugly  an' 
musty  as  the  one  little  dirty  room  that  he  cooks,  ates,  an' 
sleeps  in.  You  can  tell  him  from  me  that  if  it's  marryin'  a 
second  toime  I  was  thinkin'  av,  it's  a  dacent  husband  I'd  look 
lor,  an'  not  the  loike  o'  yellow,  wizened  Corny  O'Toole," 


TIGHE  A    VOHR8  PROPOSAL  TO  HIS  MOTHER  I93 

And  with  the  borders  of  her  cap  still  indignantly  shaking, 
and  her  whole  form  responding  by  its  tremor  to  her  outraged 
feelings,  she  flounced  into  Tighe's  chamber  and  slammed  the 
door  hard  behind  her. 

Tighe  remained  in  his  erect  position,  too  astonished  and 
too  discomfited  to  do  more  than  look  after  his  mother,  and 
then  turn  his  eyes  with  a  crestfallen  air  to  the  dog. 

"  That's  bad  for  Corny,"  he  muttered.  Then  with  a  sigh 
as  if  he  had  heroically  resigned  himself  to  circumstances,  he 
resumed  his  seat,  and  patting  Shaun,  relieved  himself  by  one 
of  his  wonted  addresses  to  the  animal.  "  It  was  no  lie,  Shaun, 
whin  I  tould  Garfield  that  wimen  wor  quare  ;  faith,  from 
one  to  the  other  o'  thim,  from  Moira  Moynahan  down  to  me 
own  mother,  they  have  as  many  thricks  as  a  wild  colt.  '  Yellow, 
wizened,  Corny  O'Toole  ' — thim's  the  words  she  used  ;  so 
it's  a  fair  face  she  wants  ;  I  don't  know  if  I  tould  Corny  to 
powdher  would  it  help  matthers."  He  shook  his  head  dole- 
fully,  as  if  the  idea  met  with  little  favor,  and  at  length,  unable 
to  make  affairs  look  more  hopeful,  he  threw  himself  on  the 
settle  and  was  soon  sound  asleep. 

His  mother,  he  r  ;\  dignation  spent,  and  her  affection  for  her 
scape-grace  son  back  in  all  its  wonted  ardor,  stole  softly  to 
his  side  ;  having  fondly  contemplated  his  round,  rosy  face, 
and  soft  brown  hair  clustering  in  curling  profusion  round  his 
forehead,  she  called  softly  :  "  Tighe,  darlin'  ! " 

The  sound  of  the  voice  partially  disturbing  Tighe's  slum- 
bering senses,  gave  a  livelier  turn  to  his  dreams  ;  in  another 
moment  he  was  talking  in  his  sleep  : 

"  Whisht,  Corny  !  it's  too  yellow  you  are — the  ould  woman 
has  an  eye  for  beauty  ;  you  won't  do  at  all,  ma  bouchal." 

"  Tim  Carmody  !  "  and  the  old  woman,  again  rendered  irate 
by  the  disjointed  phrases  which  she  knew  had  reference  to 
herself,  gave  her  son  a  vigorous  shake.  Tighe  started  up,  his 
slumber-bound  faculties  not  yet  in  a  condition  to  remember 
that  he  was  in  his  own  home  with  his  mother  beside  him,  in- 
stead of  in  Corny  O'Toole's  little  bachelor  apartment. 


,94  CARROLL  CrDONOGHUX. 

"  Don't  be  so  obstrepolous,  man,"  he  said,  striking  at  his 
mother  under  the  impression  that  it  was  Corny's  bald  head 
that  glistened  before  him  ;  "  I  popped  the  question  mesel'  for 
you,  but  it  was  no  use." 

By  this  time  he  was  quite  awake  and  realizing,  by  his 
mother's  face  and  his  own  consciousness  of  having  talked 
in  his  sleep,  that  he  had  hindered  more  than  ever  the  result  he 
wished  to  effect. 

"  Timothy  Carmody  !  " — whenever  she  called  him  by  his  full 
Christian  name,  Tighe  knew  that  his  mother  was  hurt  in  her 
most  tender  spot.  "  Niver  agin,  as  you  respect  me  gray 
hairs,  an*  the  bones  o*  yer  father  in  his  lonely  grave,  talk  the 
way  you  did  to-noight.  Yer  father,  may  the  heavens  be  his 
bed,  was  a  foine,  big  man,  six  feet  in  his  shoes,  wid  a  clane, 
sthraight  face  that  hadn't  one  crooked  feature.  It's  enough 
to  have  him  turn  in  his  coffin,  to  mintion  the  loike  o'  Corny 
O'Toole  in  the  same  breath." 

"  Very  well,  ma'am,"  answered  Tighe  meekly  ;  "  an'  I  hum- 
bly ax  yer  pardon  for  all  I  said." 

His  penitent  air  quite  mollified  the  old  woman,  and  re- 
stored him  to  her  favor ;  he  was  conducted  with  affectionate 
eclat  to  his  own  room,  and  soon  peaceful  slumber  bound  the 
eyelids  of  all  within  the  little  cabin,  including  Shaun,  who 
slept  at  the  foot  of  his  master's  bed. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

TIGHK   SECURES   A   HORS*. 

TIGHE  was  astir  early  the  next  morning,  and  ready  for  his 

visit  to  old  Ned  Maloney.  With  many  an  affectionate  entreaty 
and  loving  counsel,  his  mother,  entirely  recovered  from  her 
indignation  of  the  previous  night,  and  satisfied  that  Tighe's 
inner  man  was  fortified  by  a  hearty  breakfast  of  her  plain  but 
abundant  fare,  allowed  him  to  depart.  Tighe  did  not  imme- 
diately betake  himself  to  the  miser's  shop ;  he  had  friendly 
calls  to  make  on  some  of  the  neighbors  whose  residences  lay 
between  the  car-office  and  the  dingy-looking  shop.  He  was 
welcome  everywhere,  despite  his  vagabond  reputation,  for  his 
qualities  of  good  nature  and  simple  candor  when,  to  use  his 
own  words,  "  he  had  no  divarsion  on  hand,"  made  him  univers- 
ally beloved.  Pressing  were  the  invitations  which  he  re- 
ceived to  rest  himself  and  to  partake  of  a  bountiful  though 
plain  hospitality  ;  but  Tighe  thankfully  declined,  and  adroitly 
turned  the  random  conversation  upon  Ned  Maloney. 

"  I  heerd  a  quare  story  about  him,"  said  Tighe,  dropping 
his  voice  to  a  whisper  that  brought  his  eager  listeners  close  to 
him  ;  "  they  say  there's  some  gintleman  from  Tralee  comin' 
down  here  in  the  course  o'  the  wake  to  see  him,  an'  that  the 
ould  sinner  kapes  a  blundherbuss  on  hand  to  shoot  the  gin- 
tleman the  minit  he  puts  his  nose  inside  the  shop." 

"  The  cross  o'  Christ  betune  us  an'  harrum,"  spoke  up  one 
of  the  women  hearers,  devoutly  crossing  herself,  "  sure  that's 
dhreadful ! " 

"  It's  awful !  "  said  Tighe,  lifting  his  eyes  in  pious  horror  ; 
"  an'  it'll  only  be  the  dacent  thing  for  all  o'  you  down  here  so 
near  the  car  place,  where  he  must  surely  come,  to  be  on  the 


196 


CARROLL  &DONOQHUE. 


watch  for  him — sure  any  o*  the  bright-witted  gossoons  that 
are  always  round  the  cars  will  twig  him  in  a  minit ;  he's  a 
apoortin'  man,  an'  his  name  is  Mr.  Joe  Canty  ;  be  followin' 
him  a  little  distance  they  can  see  whether  he  makes  for 
Maloney's  plare,  an'  if  he  does,  some  o'  you  grown  folks  can 
jist  go  an'  beg  him  not  to  go  there,  but  to  turn  back  as  fast  ai 
he  can.  If  I  could  shtay  down  here  I'd  do  it,  but  I  can't." 

"  Oh,  we'll  do  it,  Tighe,"  spoke  up  all  the  voices  at  once 

"  It'll  be  a  noble  act,"  resumed  Tighe  a  Vohr  ;  "  an'  tell  the 
other  neighbors,  so  that  whin  you  all  together  waylay  Mr- 
Canty  he'll  surely  have  to  belave  you,  an'  he'll  get  away  wid 
his  loife  ;  but  don't  let  ould  Maloney  know  a  syllable  o'  this  ; 
nor  don't  let  him  see  you  watchin'  him  any  more  than  usual, 
for  there's  no  knowin'  what  desperate  turn  he  moight  take 
among  yersel's." 

"  Thrue  for  you,  Tighe  ;  sure  they  say  he  signed  his  sowl  to 
the  divil  long  ago  for  the  sake  o'  good  luck  in  his  stills  an* 
his  smugglin'." 

Tighe  shook  his  head  ;  "  I  am  afeerd  the  divil'll  have  him- 
sel'  an'  his  money  afore  a  great  while." 

"  But  what  is  the  rayson,"  asked  one  of  the  more  inquisi- 
tive of  his  listeners,  "  that  he  wants  to  shoot  this  gintle- 
man  ? " 

"  The  divil  alone,  besides  ould  Maloney  himsel',  could  tell 
you  that,"  was  the  response  ;  "  he  has  such  terrible  saycrets, 
that  same  ould  man,  that  it'd  take  betther  brains  than  any  one 
here  has  to  discover  them.  I'm  goin'  down  mesel'  to  see  him  thii 
mornin'  on  a  thrifle  o'  business  for  another  person,  an'  it's  fright- 
ened enough  I  am  afther  all  I've  heerd  o'  him  to  go  near  him." 

"  Yffu  needn't  be  afeerd,  Tighe,"  spoke  up  a  couple  of 
voices  ;  "  he's  always  been  purty  civil  to  you." 

"  You  niver  can  thrust  a  miser,"  was  Tighe's  reply,  as  with 
a  friendly  farewell,  responded  to  by  hearty  God-speeds,  he 
departed. 

The  miser,  seated  in  the  doorway  of  his  shop,  was  await- 
ing his  expected  visitor.  A  greasy  coat,  buttoned  so  as  to 


TIQHE  SECURES  A  HORSE. 


197 


conceal  his  shirtless  bosom,  hung  upon  his  spare  form,  and  hig 
great  bony  hands,  resting  on  his  knees,  gave  little  evidence  of 
any  recent  ablution.  Tighe's  salute,  accompanied  by  an 
energy  and  independence  of  manner  assumed  for  the  purpose 
of  impressing  the  old  man,  was  slowly  and  gravely  returned. 
Then  without  another  word  he  bade  Tighe  follow  him  to  the 
stable.  Report  had  not  exaggerated  when  it  said  that  old 
Ned  Maloney  had  built  a  better  stable  for  his  horse  than  he 
had  a  house  for  himself  ;  the  stable  was  a  stanch,  comforta- 
ble structure,  well-roofed,  well-floored,  and  abundantly  sup- 
plied with  straw  and  forage  ;  and  the  groom  was  a  close,  wiry 
fellow,  who  evidently  knew  his  business  well.  The  horse  was 
led  out,  and  stood  in  all  its  noble  proportions  before  Tighe, 
whose  eyes  sparkled  as  he  noted  the  signs — a  task  in  which 
no  one  in  the  county  was  better  versed  than  himself — that 
marked  the  horse  as  being  sound  of  wind  and  fleet  of  limb  ; 
from  the  proud  arch  of  his  neck  to  his  slender  legs  the  animal 
was  the  thorough-bred  racer,  with  the  blood  of  sire  and  dam 
telling  in  every  spirited  motion.  Tighe's  admiration  was  loud 
and  ardent. 

"There's  no  fear,  Mr.  Maloney,  but  he'll  win  the  race  ;  he's 
a  rale  beauty  !  "  and  with  his  wonted  artfulness  Tighe  began  to 
display  his  horsemanlike  powers — vaulting  on  the  back  of  the 
steed,  and  with  his  knowing  hand  causing  him  to  prance,  and 
corvette,  and  amble,  in  the  inclosed  space  which  surrounded  the 
stable,  till  both  the  old  miser  and  the  groom  were  convinced  of 
Tighe's  superior  skill  as  a  rider.  Then,  when  Tighe  deemed 
that  he  had  given  sufficient  exhibition  of  his  powers,  he  dis- 
mounted, and  immediately  began  to  hurry  the  groom's  prep- 
arations for  departure. 

Out  on  the  road,  and  Tighe  made  full  use  of  that  talent  for 
droll  story-telling  which  he  possessed  in  no  limited  degree. 
Having  ascertained  by  apparently  aimless  questions  that  the 
groom,  shrewd  and  artful  as  he  appeared,  was  unacquainted 
by  any  personal  experience  with  the  topography  of  the  coun- 
try three  miles  beyond  Dhrommacohol,  Tighe  determined  to 


i98 


CARROLL  O'DONOOEUS. 


so  divert  the  attention  of  the  fellow  that  he  would  forget  to 
observe  the  direction  they  were  taking,  or  the  places  through 
which  they  were  traveling,  beyond  such  information  as  Tighe 
himself  chose  to  volunteer.  And  he  succeeded  :  the  mind  of 
the  groom  was  so  amused,  perplexed,  and  at  last  so  beclouded 
with  the  absurd  stories  in  which  horses,  devils  and  ghosts 
were  mingled  in  strange  and  terror-striking  fashion,  that  the 
little,  wiry  fellow  was  as  abstracted  and  absorbed  as  his  sharp 
companion  wished  him  to  be.  Tighe  announced  at  last 
the  termination  of  the  journey,  and  Arty  Moore,  the  groom, 
shook  himself  like  one  awaking  from  deep  sleep,  and  looked 
half  stupidly  about  him.  A  wide  stretch  of  open  country, 
environed  by  hills,  lay  before  him,  and  the  only  house  in  sight 
was  that  which  they  were  about  to  enter — a  small  thatched 
dwelling,  with  what  appeared  to  be  several  out-houses  adjoin- 
ing. The  groom's  full  consciousness  returned,  and  with  it  the 
suspicions  which  were  peculiar  to  him. 

"I  thought  we  were  going  to  Tralee,"  he  said,  halting 
within  a  step  of  the  doorway;  "  that's  what  I  understood  from 
Mr.  Maloney,  and  that  the  horse  was  to  be  stabled  there." 

"  And  who  said  we  weren't  ? "  said  Tighe,  turning  round 
with  an  assumption  of  fierceness  before  which  Moore  shrunk. 
u  Didn't  you  tould  me  you  were  niver  in  Tralee  ? " 

44  I  did,"  answered  the  man  with  a  crestfallen  look  ;  "  but 
my  common  sense  tells  me  that  this  isn't  the  town  of  Tralee." 

"Well,  mebbe  yer  common  sinse  would  tell  you  how  far  out 
o'  the  town  we  are,"  mocked  Tighe  ;  "  an'  mebbe  that  same 
common  sinse  that  you  brag  av  would  tell  you  I  have  a  very 
good  rayson  for  what  I'm  doin' — an'  one  that's  to  Mr.  Maloney's 
intherest.  Now,  tell  me  one  thing  :  " — going  very  close  to  the 
groom,  and  continuing  his  intimidating  manner, — "  didn't  Mr. 
Maloney  himsel*  tell  you  to  be  attintive  to  my  directions  ? " 

44  He  did." 

"  Very  well  thin  ;  mebbe  you're  sharp  enough  to  know  that 
there's  a  great  dale  depindin*  on  this  race ;  or  mebbe  you 
haven't  the  gumption  to  see  that  there's  somethin'  to  be 


TIOHS  SECURES  A  HORSE. 


199 


put  in  yer  own  pocket  if  you  have  discretion  in  the  matthcr. 
Which  is  it  now  ?  " 

That  was  a  shrewd  way  of  detecting  whether  Arty  Moore, 
Ned  Maloney's  groom,  was  too  faithful  to  the  miser's  interest* 
to  be  bribed  into  betraying  them.  But  the  groom's  principle! 
were  not  of  the  stanchest  kind,  and  there  was  no  very  co- 
gent reason  why  he  should  be  faithful  to  old  Maloney  at  the 
risk  of  a  pecuniary  loss  to  himself  ;  with  a  snap  of  his  black 
eyes,  he  answered  : 

"  Trust  me  for  that  ;  I'm  not  particular  which  master  I 
serve,  so  long  as  the  money's  to  the  fore." 

Tighe  turned  upon  him  with  well  assumed  indignation  : 
"  Hould,  you  thraitor  !  is  that  the  way  you're  sarvin'  the  poor, 
lonely  old  man  that  thrusts  you  ?  It'll  not  overtake  me  to  let 
him  know  your  characther." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Carmody,  for  the  love  of  God  don't !  "  and  the 
trembling  wretch  was  almost  on  his  knees  at  Tighe's  feet ;  "  I 
meant  nothing  by  it ;  the  words  only  escaped  me  ;  but  Mr. 
Maloney'd  believe  them,  and  I'd  lose  my  place  ;  it's  an  easy 
one,  and  a  pretty  good  one  so  far,  and  I  have  a  wife  and 
family  depending  on  me." 

Tighe  pretended  to  be  unmoved  for  a  few  seconds  ;  then 
he  seemed  to  yield  only  for  the  sake  of  the  dependent  family. 

"  Will  you  swear  to  be  thrue  to  Mr.  Maloney's  intherests  be 
moindin*  sthrictly  what  I  tell  you  ?  " 

"  I  will,  I  swear  solemnly  I  will !  "  answered  the  groom. 

*'  Very  well,  thin  ;  you're  not  to  answer  any  one  a  single 
question  about  this  horse,  save  that  you're  his  groom,  an' 
nothin'  more  ;  you're  nayther  to  tell  the  name  o'  the  baste, 
who  is  his  owner,  nor  the  man  that's  to  ride  him ;  if  the  ould 
b'y  himsel'  was  to  sthand  afore  you  an'  demand  such  informa- 
tion, you're  to  refuse  to  give  it,  both  now,  duriu'  these  few 
days  afore  the  race,  and  till  afther  the  race  is  oven  Do  you 
consint  to  all  that  ?  " 

"  I  do,  willingly,"  was  the  earnest  answer. 

The  stable  to  which  the  horse  was  led  was  hardly  as 


200  CARROLL  VDONOQHUB. 

fortable  as  the  one  from  which  he  had  been  taken,  bat  at  lent 
it  was  sufficient  for  the  proper  housing  of  the  steed  ;  and  the 
sight  of  old  Maloney's  bank-notes,  that  Tighe  ostentatiously 
displayed,  made  the  owner  of  the  stable,  which  was  annexed 
to  a  little  shebeen,  very  willing  to  make  every  addition  in  the 
way  of  provender.  Tighe  was  satisfied,  and  having  renewed 
his  injunctions  of  secrecy  to  the  groom,  he  departed. 

His  first  impulse  was  to  seek  Mr.  Joe  Canty ;  his  next  to 
depute  Corny  O'Toole  to  deliver  the  message  ;  for  this  step 
he  had  an  important  reason  :  it  might  be  rather  an  awkward 
(ontretemps  to  have  Mr.  Canty  on  the  morning  of  the  race 
recognize  in  the  jockey  who  would  step  forth  to  ride  for 
Quartermaster  Garfield  the  person  who  had  been  the  bearer  of 
a  message  from  Mr.  Maloney,  the  owner  of  the  horse  that  Canty 
expected  to  ride  ;  it  might  cause  suspicion  of  foul  play,  suffi- 
cient to  arrest  Tighe's  part  in  the  race  even  before  he  had  be- 
gun it.  Thus  deciding,  he  turned  his  steps  to  Corny  O'Toole, 
faithful  Shaun,  who  never  lost  sight  of  his  master,  closely  fol- 
lowing. He  found  that  the  little  stranger  had  departed  not 
an  hour  before,  having  sufficiently  recovered  under  Corny's 
skillful  treatment,  and  he  found  Corny  himself  in  a  very  con- 
tented frame  of  mind  over  a  piece  of  bacon  and  a  dish  of 
smoking  potatoes. 

"  Just  in  time,  my  boy  !  "  and  the  little  man,  with  refreshing 
promptness,  arranged  a  place  for  Tighe  at  the  homely  table. 
The  meal  was  heartily  welcome  to  the  tired  Tighe  a  Vohr,  and 
the  palatabk  fare,  (Corny  was  an  excellent  cook)  together  with 
the  contents  of  a  little  black  bottle,  which  came  forth  from  a 
recess  in  the  closet  after  the  table  was  cleared,  put  Tighe  into 
very  sanguin"  spirits.  He  related  his  success  with  Maloney 
and  the  grooii,  at  which  Corny  signified  his  delight  and  admi- 
ration by  slarping  his  knees,  rubbing  his  hands  together,  and 
giving  forth  Sequent  low,  prolonged  chuckles.  Then  Tighe 
paused,  ard  'ook  another  draught  from  his  glass.  Knowing 
the  little  D-AI-'S  peculiarities,  he  was  doubtful  of  gaining  hii 
consent  to  "te  the  message  to  Mr.  Canty. 


TIOEE  SECURES  A  IIOR8K  ,0i 

"  I  had  an  intherview  wid  me  mother,  Corny." 

"  Did  you  now  ? "  Mr.  O'Toole  imbibed  from  his  glas* 
the  rosy  color  of  the  liquor  perhaps  helping  to  make  the  blush 
which  came  into  his  wrinkled  face. 

"  I  did  that,  Corny  ;  an'  you  were  mintioned  ;  yis,  Corny, 
you  were  mintioned  be  the  mother  an'  the  son." 

Mr.  O'Toole  arose.  "  I  trust,  Mr.  Carmody,  that  no  allu- 
sions were  made  to  disturb  your  mother's  widowed  feelings  ; 
rather  would  I  bear  my  own  unhappy  sentiments  to  the  grave  ; 
yes,  sir  !  "  and  he  stood  erect,  glowing  with  the  consciousness 
of  his  noble  rectitude. 

"  Sit  down,  Corny,  an'  let  me  tell  you  ;  the  mintion  o'  you 
put  me  mother  in  a  very  feelin'  mood  intoirely  ;  she  was 
touched,  Corny,  be  yer  sintimints  for  her."  And  Tighe's  con- 
science was  quite  innocent  of  any  falsehood  this  time  ;  for,  as 
he  afterward  expressed  to  Shauri,  "  sure  me  mintion  o'  Corny 
did  touch  her,  only,  begorra,  it  touched  her  in  the  way  that 
Corny  wouldn't  loike.  Yis,"  pursued  Tighe,  "  an'  in  toime, 
Corny,  whin  the  rale  goodness  o'  yer  noble  heart  becomes 
fully  known  to  her,  an'  she  has  her  eyes  opened  to  all  that  she 
missed  whin  she  tuk  Timothy  Carmody  in  preference  to  yer- 
sel' " 

"  Not  in  preference,  Mr.  Carmody, "broke  in  the  little  man, 
with  dignity,  "  but  because  I  didn't  ask  her  in  time." 

"  I  beg  yer  pardon,  Corny,  that's  what  I  meant.  Well,  as 
I  was  sayin',  whin  she  has  her  eyes  opened  to  all  this,  she'll 
be  proud  an'  happy  to  become  Mrs.  O'Toole."  He  stood  up 
and  shook  Corny's  hand  with  prolonged  vigor.  Mr.  O'Toole 
replenished  the  glasses. 

44  We'll  drink,  Tighe,  to  your  mother's  health." 

"To  the  future  Mrs.  Toole,"  responded  Tighe  a  Voht. 
Corny  was  in  a  state  of  the  highest  satisfaction, — pleased  with 
himself,  with  his  visitor,  and  with  his  surroundings  ;  and  Tighe, 
in  the  same  happy  state,  judged  it  would  be  a  very  good  time 
to  broach  the  true  object  of  his  visit. 

Mr.  O'Toole  looked  a  little  doubtful :  "  I  don't  know,  my 


iOl 


CARROLL 


boy,  No*  111  bring  myself  to  do  that.  I  haven't  been  in  so 
cictc  rmce  your  mother  married,  and  I  haven't  much  mind  foi 
talking  to  any  of  these  sporting  characters." 

"  The  divil  a  hap'orth  you'll  have  to  say  to  any  o'  thim  but 
Mr.  Canty  Mmac-l',  an'  thin,  barrin'  he  draws  you  into  any  re- 
marks o'  his  own,  you  have  nothin'  to  tell  him  but  that  Mr 
Maloney  desire*  him  not  to  go  down  there  to  see  the  horse  ; 
an'  you  nadn't  moind  puttin'  the  message  in  very  sthrong 
words  ayther  ;  for  if  he  won't  belave  you,  an'  if  he  will  go 
down  to  see  eld  Maloney,  faith  it's  a  quare  welcome  he'll  get 
both  from  the  people  in  Dhrommacohol  an'  the  miser  himsel'!  " 
and  Tighe  laughed  heartily  as  his  imagination  vividly  pictured 
the  crowd  that  would  surround  unsuspecting  Mr.  Canty,  en- 
treating him  to  return. 

"  May  be  he'd  ask  me  if  I  came  straight  from  Mr.  Maloney," 
said  Corny  ;  "  what  will  I  answer  then  ? " 

"  The  thruth,  Corny,"  responded  Tighe,  with  the  energy  of 
conscious  virtue ;  "  always  spake  the  thruth.  Lies  is  bad 
ivery  way,  as  degradin'  to  the  man  that  tells  thim  as  to  the 
man  that  listens  ;  and  there's  nothin'  loike  the  voice  o'  a  good 
conscience  for  makin'  a  man  feel  himsel'  afore  the  world,  an' 
o'  importhance  in  his  own  eyes." 

"  Right,  my  boy ;  every  way  right ! "  responded  Mr. 
O'Toole. 

"  Tell  him,  Corny,  that  the  messenger  who  kem  direct  from 
Mr.  Maloney  is  at  yer  house,  but  for  some  rayson  he  couldn't 
take  the  message  himsel',  but  gev  it  to  you  ;  an'  that'll  be  the 
thruth,  anyway  :  sure  I  have  the  best  o'  raysons  for  not  wish- 
in'  to  meet  Mr.  Canty  this  while  yet." 

At  length  it  was  settled  ;  Corny  agreed  to  take  the  message 
to  the  "  Blennerhasset  Arms,"  the  most  probable  whereabouts 
of  Mr.  Canty,  and  Tighe  departed  to  seek  Garfield  for  the 
purpose  of  bringing  him  out  to  view  "  Brian  Boru.** 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

MR.    CANTY. 

A  SOFT,  bright  morning,  a  country  redolent  of  balmy  ait 
and  new-mown  hay,  and  the  perfume  of  a  thousand  wild,  but 
sweet-scented  flowers,  that  decked  the  fields  on  every  side, 
together  with  the  prospect  of  winning  his  money  and  redeeming 
his  honor,  all  conspired  to  put  William  Garfield,  quartermaster 

in  her  Majesty's Regiment,  in  excellent  spirits,  as  in 

company  with  Tighe  a  Vohr,  and  both  mounted  on  horses 
capable  of  a  fair  gallop,  they  cantered  through  the  stretch  of 
country  which  led  to  the  stable  of  "  Brian  Boru."  The  English- 
man was  in  a  humor  to  relish  Tighe's  laughable  and  original  re- 
marks about  the  locality  through  which  they  were  riding,  the 
people,  their  habits,  and  everything  that  Tighe  could  face- 
tiously twist  or  make  up  into  a  story  of  laughable  absurdity  or 
startling  interest.  His  conversation,  however,  was  not  with- 
out a  frequent  random  remark  regarding  the  Widow  Moore, 
a  careless  observation  containing  some  item  of  news  about 
her  that  was  of  profound  interest  to  the  love-smitten  soldier  ; 
and  once  the  artful  fellow  insinuated  how  report  had  it  that 
the  widow  was  excited  about  the  coming  race,  and  anxious 
fcr  Garfield's  success.  The  soldier  was  in  a  glow  of  antici- 
pation and  pleasure. 

"  Only  win  for  me,  my  dear  fellow,"  he  said,  clapping  his 
hand  familiarly  for  an  instant  on  Tighe's  shoulder,  "and  you 
will  make  me  your  lasting  friend,  willing  and  eager  to  serve 
you  in  everything." 

"  The  divil  a  fear  o'  me  losin'  for  you  ;  I  niver  lost  *  race 
yet.  But  wait  till  you  see  "  Brian  Boru  ;  "  if  his  beauty  doesn't 
quicken  the  soight  in  yer  eyes  me  name's  not  Tim  Cannody  I 
(203) 


to4  CARROLL  (TDONOGHUB. 

only  I've  a  word  of  caution  :  don't  dhrop  any  remark  afore 
the  groom  that  you'll  foind  wid  the  horse — don't  even  call  the 
horse  be  name  ;  for  the  groom  is  a  fellow  not  much  to  be 
thrustcd,  I  think,  an'  if  he  suspected  that  you  were  the  man 
I  was  to  ride  for  mebbe  I  couldn't  kape  the  saycracy  I  want 
to  kape  till  the  day  o'  the  race.  You  can  let  on  to  be  a  care- 
less frind  o'  moine  that's  jist  come  out  for  divarsion's  sake  to 
have  a  look  at  the  baste." 

The  soldier  was  strictly  obedient  to  Tighe's  injunctions,  and 
though  the  lighting  up  of  his  heavy  face,  and  his  start  of  de- 
lighted surprise  when  the  magnificent  animal  was  led  out,  be- 
trayed his  admiration,  he  was  careful  not  to  drop  a  syllable  of 
remark.  Tighe  lightly  mounted  "  Brian  Boru  "  and  proceeded 
to  still  further  surprise  and  delight  the  soldier  by  an  exhibi- 
tion of  his  skillful  horsemanship.  Garfield  was  in  an  ecstasy 
of  joyous  anticipation  ;  he  could  hardly  wait  for  the  exhibi- 
tion to  be  concluded,  and  until  Tighe  and  himself  were  in  the 
silent  open  country  again,  on  their  return,  when  he  burst 
forth: 

"  I  feel  as  if  I  owe  you  an  apology,  my  friend,  for  my  past 
distrust  of  you  ;  yes,  I  own," — becoming  more  frank  as  he 
looked  into  Tighe's  wondering  and  apparently  artless  eyes — 
"  that  until  this  morning  I  did  not  entirely  trust  you  ;  there 
was  a  lurking  doubt  which  I  could  not  explain  to  myself  that 
perhaps  you  were  deceiving  me  ;  but  this  morning,  Mr.  Car- 
mody,  has  obliterated  all  that.  I  believe  you  fully  now,  and 
I  thank  you  from  my  heart !  " 

"  That's  always  the  way,"  responded  Tighe  ;  "  thim  that'i 
innocint  is  suspected,  an'  thim  that's  guilty  escapes." 

"  I  did  not  forget,  Mr.  Carmody,"  resumed  the  soldier,  "  my 
promise  to  you,  and  out  of  gratitude  I  shall  fulfill  it  this  very 
day.  I  hope  1  shall  be  as  successful  for  you  as  you  have  been 
so  far  for  me.  Come  to  the  barracks  to-night,  and  I  shall 
have  an  answer  for  you." 

Almost  at  that  same  moment  Corny  O'Toole  was  having  hii 
interview  with  Mr.  Joe  Canty  in  the  coffee-room  of  the  "  Blen- 


MIL   CANTY.  to$ 

nerhasset  Arms."  He  had  sought  that  gentleman  on  the  pre- 
vious evening,  but  without  success,  either  at  the  "  Arms  "  or  at 
Mr  Canty's  residence,  and  at  the  latter  place  Corny  was  told 
that  he  would  surely  find  him  at  the  "  Arms  "  by  a  certain 
hour  the  next  morning. 

Mr.  Joe  Canty  was  the  type  of  a  sporting  man  :  not  too  tall, 
lithe,  wiry,  with  a  look  about  the  legs  as  if  they  were  always 
holding  themselves  in  readiness  to  mount,  and  a  dash  and 
swagger  about  his  bearing  that  marked  the  trickster  and  the 
dare-devil.  From  his  small,  keen  eyes,  to  the  tawny  mus- 
tache which  shaded  his  upper  lip,  there  was  an  expression  of 
half  scorn,  as  if  he  were  constantly  mocking  his  surroundings, 
and  treating  to  mental  sarcasm  his  very  associates.  He  was 
popular  among  sporting  circles,  because  of  his  abilities  in  that 
line  ;  and  the  latter,  sharpened  by  an  extraordinary  shrewd- 
ness, had  made  him  a  most  successful  counselor  on  betting 
interests.  He  was  surrounded  by  an  eager  group  of  his  own 
class,  when  it  was  signified  to  him  that  some  one  wished  to 
see  him. 

M  Let  the  person  come  in  here,"  he  said,  too  eager,  in  his 
animated  description  of  some  race,  to  care  to  cease  or  to 
break  the  thread  of  his  voluble  account  by  leaving  the  com- 
pany. 

Corny  O'Toole  was  ushered  in  ;  his  drab  gaiters,  bringing 
into  more  prominent  view  his  ungainly  feet,  were  surmounted 
by  pantaloons  that,  having  shrunk  in  size,  stood  sufficiently 
above  his  gaiter-tops  to  reveal  to  a  considerable  extent  a  pair 
of  brown  stockings  ;  the  color  of  the  unmentionables,  once 
black,  had  become  a  dingy  brown  from  age  and  wear,  and 
gave  evidence  in  the  several  light-colored  spots  on  their  sur- 
face of  hard  and  valuable  service.  The  upper  part  of  his 
body  was  incased  in  a  tight-fitting  body-coat  ;  a  quarter  of  a 
century  before  it  probably  fitted  its  wearer,  and  could  boast 
of  being  cut  in  the  style  of  the  day  :  but  now  it  bore  as  anti- 
quated a  look  as  if  it  had  been  handed  down  from  the  ark, 
and  it  was  so  tight  and  short  a  fit  for  him  whose  stout,  wide 


20$  CARROLL  VDONOQUITK. 

back  it  covered  that  it  suggested  the  idea  of  a  straight-jacket 
His  shirt-bosom,  innocent  of  starch,  hung  limp  and  abundant 
on  his  breast,  and  the  equally  limp  collar  about  his  neck  was 
ornamented  in  front  by  a  flaring  crimson  bow.  Hissidelocks, 
oiled  and  curled,  were  plastered  in  greasy  twists  against  the 
sides  of  his  yellow,  wrinkled  face.  The  sight  of  this  strange, 
comical,  antiquated  figure  provoked  a  smile  that  before  long 
deepened  into  a  broad  grin  upon  every  face.  Corny  had  not 
forgotten  his  old-time  bow,  when  he  was  a  younger  and  more 
gallant  man,  and  with  this  profound  salaam  he  saluted  the 
company,  giving  a  supplementary  courtesy  to  Mr.  Canty, 
whose  person  he  knew.  "  Your  servant,  sir;  and  I  would 
like  a  word  with  you." 

Mr.  Canty  drew  himself  up,  the  interruption  which  Corny's 
entrance  had  proved  to  his  story  having  put  him  in  no  gra- 
cious mood.  "  Speak  out,"  he  said  haughtily ;  "  what  is  it 
you  want  ?  " 

Mr.  O'Toole  s  dignity  was  hurt  ;  fondly  imagining  that  he 
«vas  gifted  with  literary  genius,  his  absurd  conceit  led  him  to 
fancy,  also,  that  others  must  read  his  mental  superiority  in  the 
very  poise  of  his  form  and  the  expression  of  his  face.  This 
humiliating  slight  to  which  Mr.  Canty  was  subjecting  him  was 
very  gaJling.  He  flushed  and  trembled.  "  Mr.  Canty,"  he 
said,  in  deeply  indignant  tones,  "  I  came  here  with  a  message 
from  Mr.  Maloney,  of  Dhrommacohol  ;  if  you  were  the  gen- 
tleman I  thought  you  were,  I'd  deliver  it  to  you,  sir,  in  full ; 
but  since  you're  not,  I'll  put  you  to  the  trouble  of  asking 
questions  ; "  and  Corny  assumed  his  most  fierce  and  dignified 
attitude. 

A  half-suppressed  laugh  went  from  mouth  to  mouth,  while 
the  circle  of  amused  listeners  drew  closer  to  Corny,  their  faces 
expressing  an  eager  anticipation  of  something  ludicrous  and 
racy.  Mr.  Canty  did  not  join  in  the  laugh — he  was  too  much 
nettled  by  the  situation  in  which  he  found  himself  ;  and  with 
a  still  more  haughty,  supercilious  air  he  answered  :  "  Your 
message  is  your  own  concern,  sir  ;  whether  you  deliver  it  Of 
not  is  immaterial  to  me." 


XR,   CA2TTT.  ,07 

"Very  well,  Mr.  Canty,  you  can  take  your  own  risks  of 
what'll  happen  to  you  before  long  ! "  and  Mr.  O'Toole,  with 
a  most  ludicrously  dignified  bow,  was  turning  away. 

"  For  shame  !  "  echoed  a  couple  of  voices  ;  "  the  message 
may  be  of  importance  ;  question  him,  or  give  one  of  us  per- 
mission to  do  so." 

"  Act  your  pleasure,  gentlemen,"  responded  Canty,  curtly  ; 
and  one  of  the  foremost  of  the  group,  shrewdly  devining  Mr. 
O'Toole's  vanity,  pretended  to  pander  to  it  by  as  absurd  an 
air  of  deference  as  ever  marked  the  mien  of  O'Toole  himself. 

"  I  beg  you,  my  dear  sir,  to  overlook  the  gross  incivility 
with  which  you  have  been  received,  and  state  your  message  to 
me." 

Corny  was  mollified  and  pleased  ;  his  wizened  face  relaxed 
its  severe  expression,  and  he  smiled  upon  the  speaker. 

"  Mr.  Maloney  desires  Mr.  Canty  not  to  go  down  to  Dhrom- 
macohol  to  see  his  horse,  'Charmer';  the  animal  is  kind  of 
touchy,  and  won't  bear  looking  at,  nor  trial.  On  the  morning 
of  the  race  Mr.  Maloney '11  have  him  here  in  time." 

Mr.  Canty's  supercilious  air  changed  to  one  of  violent  in- 
dignation. "  Does  Mr.  Maloney  suppose  that  I'm  going  to 
obey  any  such  message  as  that — not  see  the  horse  I'm  going 
to  ride  till  the  very  morning  I'm  expected  to  mount  him  ?  you 
can  pay  my  respects  to  the  gentleman,  and  tell  him  I  shall 
have  the  pleasure  of  introducing  myself  to  him  to-morrow 
afternoon." 

"You  had  better  not,"  answered  Corny,  turning  upon  him 
with  an  air  which  he  meant  to  be  intimidating,  but  which  was 
only  a  most  laughable  assumption  of  fierceness. 

"  Indeed  !  "  sneered  Canty  ;  "pray  who  are  you  who  have 
been  deputed  to  direct  my  movements?" 

"Who  am  I  ?" — all  the  little  man's  spirit  was  aroused ;  the 
blood  of  the  princely  OTooles  tingled  in  his  veins,  and  gave 
courage  and  animation  to  his  voice.  "  Who  am  I  ?  "  he  re- 
peated ;  "  a  better  man  than  ever  you  were  ! — I  come  of  the 
house  of  O'Toole,  where  kings  and  princes  had  their  rise  and 


,0S  CARROLL  VDONOGHUR. 

fall  ;  my  pedigree  in  unstained,  and  my  ancestry  is  one  1  M 
my  posterity  can  boast  of ;  among  my  posthumous  desc«  /id- 
ants  " — in  his  excitement  Corny  was  confusing  his  words — 
"was  a  great-grand-aunt  who,  with  her  own  hands  and  her 
own  noble  exertions,  educated  three  hundred  young  me>  for 
the  priesthood  ;  they  went  in  a  body  to  Rome,  and  we' «  re- 
ceived in  the  Vatican  by  the  Pope  himself.  Yes,  gentle  nen," 
— continuing  with  greater  emphasis — "  the  Holy  Father  inter- 
tained  them,  and  drank  with  them  all  to  the  health  jf  my 
noble  grand-aunt." 

A  shout  of  laughter  cut  Corny  short.  Every  man  w»-3  hold- 
ing his  sides,  and  squirming  and  contorting  his  body  with  the 
most  violent  ebullition  of  mirth.  Even  Canty  was  forced  to 
join  in  the  merriment.  Corny  was  enraged  ;  to  have  this 
glowing  account  of  himself  and  his  race,  which  he  intended 
should  be  received  as  a  convincing  proof  of  his  title  to  blood 
and  breeding,  thus  mockingly  interpreted  was  more  than  his 
O'Toole  spirit  could  bear.  He  turned  with  renewed  indigna- 
tion on  Canty : 

"  Now  let  me  tell  you,  sir,  who  you  are.  You  are  the  grand- 
son of  a  tinker  who  went  mending  his  wares  over  the  coun- 
try ;  your  father  wasn't  much  better,  and  your  mother  was 
the  daughter  of  an  ignorant  s/ie&een-keepeT  ;  and  as  for  your- 
self, you  have  the  breeding  of  a  knave  who  wouldn't  mind 
betiaying  his  own  father,  providing  it  put  a  pound  in  your 
pocket  ! " 

This  home-thrust,  pointing  so  directly  at  the  base  part 
wbioh  Canty  had  played  in  allowing  himself  to  be  bought 
from  an  engagement  to  ride  for  Garfield,  stung  the  sport  to  the 
quick.  He  sprung  at  Corny,  but  a  dozen  hands  pulled  him 
back  before  he  could  strike  the  blow  aimed  with  desperate 
torce  at  the  little  man's  face  ;  and  more  than  one  voice  urged 
Corny  to  depart,  a  request  with  which  Mr.  O'Toole,  whose 
courage,  while  it  was  equal  to  a  war  of  words,  dwindled  be- 
fore a  display  of  muscular  force,  eagerly  complied  ;  the  flow- 
ing tails  of  his  body -cc  at  were  speedily  seen  flying  through 
the  open  doorway. 


CHAPTER  XXVL 

MR.  CANTY'S  RECEPTION. 

MR.  GARFIELD'S  efforts  in  behalf  of  Tighe  had  succeeded  , 
owing  to  the  quartermaster's  intimate  acquaintance  with  one 
of  the  chief  officials  of  the  jail,  all  had  been  admirably  man- 
aged ;  by  what  particular  means  the  soldier  did  not  choose 
to  say  ;  and  Tighe  was  too  happy  to  ask  for  further  informa- 
tion than  that  an  unobstructed  passage  would  be  afforded  the 
prisoner's  three  friends,  provided  they  came  at  a  certain  hour 
on  the  ensuing  night.  Tighe  was  so  delighted  that  he  could 
hardly  wait  for  the  mail-car  to  bear  him  to  DhrommacohoL 
As  he  stepped  from  the  car  he  met  Father  Meagher,  who  was 
just  returning  from  his  parish  rounds  ;  the  clergyman's  face 
brightened  when  he  saw  Tighe  a  Vohr,  and  he  extended  his 
hand  in  hearty  welcome. 

44 1  have  good  news,  father,"  he  whispered,  when  they  had 
gone  beyond  curious  observation  ;  "  to-night  you  will  be  let 
into  the  prison  to  see  Mr.  Carroll ;  you  and  the  young  ladies." 

"  How  did  you  manage  that,  Tighe,"  asked  the  priest ; 
"  did  you  obtain  a  pass  ? " 

Tighe  was  somewhat  nonplussed  ;  knowing  the  clergyman's 
stern  integrity,  his  severe  reprehension  of  anything  that  per- 
tained to  deceit  or  dishonor,  he  could  have  borne  better  to  be 
executed  than  to  confess  to  the  clergyman  by  what  plans  oi 
deception  he  had  contrived  to  bring  about  the  present  fortu- 
nate state  of  affairs. 

"  Now,  Father  Meagher,"  he  said,  after  a  pause  during 

which  he  pretended  to  be  concerned  about  Shaun,  who  was 

sportively  chasing  a  butterfly,  "  it  goes  to  me  heart  to  have 

you  all  the  toime  wantin*  to  know  the  whys  an'  the  where- 

(•Of) 


tlo  CARROLL  VDONOGHU& 

fores  o*  me  doin's — it  tells  so  plainly  that  you  have  no  thrust 
in  me." 

The  clergyman  looked  full  in  the  face  of  Tighe  a  Vohr ; 
not  a  muscle  of  the  latter's  countenance  moved,  save  to  re- 
turn the  gaze  by  one  of  most  dolefully  injured  innocence. 

"  I  mane  it,  father  ;  an*  if  you'd  only  listen  whin  I  bring 
you  news  loike  the  prisint,  widout  axin'  to  know  how  I  kem 
be  me  good  luck,  I'd  be  the  happiest  man  aloive.  I'm  thryin1 
to  be  good,  yer  riverince,  sayin'  me  pathers  an*  ares  dutifully 
an'  kapin*  from  me  usual  divarsions " 

"  Except  the  drink,  Tighe,"  interrupted  the  priest  slyly. 

"  Oh,  yer  riverince,  as  to  that,  I'm  kapin'  sthraight  intoirely  ; 
barrin'  a  wee  dhrop  that  I  had  wid  Corny  O'Toole  yestherday, 
whin  the  heart  was  wake  widin  me,  I  haven't  touched  a  sup 
since — since  I  promised  Moira  I  wouldn't." 

Tighe  looked  up  a  little  fearfully  ;  he  dreaded  the  effect  of 
his  last  words  on  the  clergyman  ;  but  the  latter,  without  seem- 
ing to  notice  it,  resumed  :  "  You  say  that  everything  is  ar- 
ranged for  our  visit  to-night  ?  " 

"  Yis,  father ;  there  isn't  one  thing  to  do  but  to  put  yersel' 
under  me  care  until  we  rache  the  jail,  whin  I'm  to  give  you 
in  charge  o*  a  trustworthy  person." 

Father  Meagher  made  no  further  observation,  save  to  insist 
that  Tighe  should  accompany  him  to  the  little  pastoral  resi- 
dence, in  order  to  be  refreshed  after  his  journey. 

"  And  how,  yer  riverince,  is  Moira  to  behave  to  me  ? " 
Tighe  asked,  with  a  roguish  twinkle,  as  he  stood  hesitating  on 
the  doorstep  of  the  little  dwelling  ;  "  is  she  still  under  ordhers 
not  to  spake  to  me  ?  " 

"  Tim  Carmody,  you  are  an  artful  rogue  ! "  Despite  the 
severity  the  priest  strove  to  assume,  a  smile  curled  his  mouth 
as  he  remembered  the  trick  which  had  been  played  upon  him 
by  his  niece  and  Tighe  a  Vohr.  He  continued  :  "  It  was 
well  you  knew  how  to  get  over  the  difficulty  when  she  was 
under  orders,  as  you  term  it !  and  you'll  never  be  at  a  loss 
while  you  have  Shaan  for  a  mouth-piece." 


MR.   CANTY '8  RECEPTION  an 

Tighe  rolled  up  his  eyes  till  the  whites  alone  were  visible, 
muttering  :  "  He  knows  it  ;  begorra,  he  knows  all  about  it !  " 

Moira  was  permitted  to  speak  to  him,  and  while  Clare  and 
Nora,  in  a  flutter  of  anxiety  and  joyous  anticipation,  owing 
to  the  tidings  which  Father  Meagher  brought,  were  making 
hasty  preparations  for  their  afternoon  trip  to  Tralee,  Tighe 
and  Moira  were  enjoying  an  undisturbed  conversation  in  the 
kitchen. 

The  sun  was  in  the  full  glare  of  its  noonday  heat  when  the 
little  party  of  four  left  the  pastoral  residence  to  take  their 
way  to  the  car-office.  But  a  strange  excitement  possessed 
the  little  village  ;  men,  women,  and  children  were  converging 
to  one  spot — the  street  on  which  old  Maloney's  abode  fronted, 
and  where  there  might  be  witnessed  an  unusual  and  remark- 
able scene  : — a  man  in  fashionable  sporting  dress  surrounded 
by  a  motley  crowd  of  men,  women,  and  children,  some  cling- 
ing to  the  skirts  of  his  coat,  others  on  their  knees  before  him, 
and  all  gesticulating  and  hallooing  in  the  wildest  confusion. 
The  sporting  stranger,  red,  perspiring,  and  desperate,  sought 
to  get  on  from  his  captors  ;  but  they,  each  moment  swelled  by 
some  new  accession,  who,  knowing  nothing  of  the  origin  of 
the  excitement,  yet  catching  the  infectious  passion  of  the 
moment,  shrieked  and  gesticulated  as  wildly  as  those  who 
had  come  earlier  upon  the  scene,  fettered  every  step  he 
attempted  to  take.  At  last  with  a  sudden  dash  he  cleared  a 
passage,  and  darted  with  the  speed  of  a  hare  toward  Maloney's 
shop.  The  miser  had  not  been  deaf  to  the  uproar  almost 
at  his  door,  and  in  trembling  agony  for  the  safety  of 
his  hoarded  gold,  which  he  imagined  the  rabble  were  seeking, 
he  hastily  barricaded  door  and  window.  With  carbine  in  his 
shaking  hand,  he  stood  ready  to  intimidate  the  first  who  should 
force  an  entrance.  On  they  came,  Joe  Canty,  in  torn  and 
dilapidated  plight,  at  full  speed,  and  the  whole  motley,  howl- 
ing crowd  after  him. 

By  this  time  Father  Meagher,  having  left  the  young  ladies 


jia  CARROLL  VDONOQHU& 

in  the  care  of  Tighe,  arrived  on  the  scene,  and  his  presence 
and  voice  restored  sufficient  order  for  him  to  learn  that  the 
stranger,  on  his  peaceable  way  to  see  Mr.  Maloney,  had  been 
surrounded  by  a  number  of  people  who  acted  as  if  they  were 
mad,  entreating  and  praying  him  to  return  immediately  to  the 
place  whence  he  came  ;  indignantly  refusing  to  do  so,  he  had 
been  set  upon  in  this  howling  manner.  The  priest  had  not 
another  moment  to  stop  if  he  would  catch  the  car,  and  with 
a  hasty  rebuke  to  the  crowd,  among  whom  he  recognized  all 
the  scamps  of  his  parish,  he  hurried  away  ;  and  once  that  his 
reverence  was  out  of  sight,  that  portion  of  the  crowd  who 
knew  the  cause  of  the  "  set-to  "  on  Mr.  Canty,  and  who  were 
determined  to  keep  their  promise  to  Tighe  a  Vohr,  began  anew 
their  entreaties. 

"  Don't  you  see  how  ould  Maloney  has  his  dure  locked  agin 
you  ?  it's  as  much  as  yer  loife's  worth  to  go  foreninst  the  ould 
sinner." 

"  Do,  ma  bouchal,  go  back  afore  you're  killed  !  "  "  You're  too 
foine  a  gintleman  to  be  sthretched  the  way  the  ould  miser's 
blundherbuss'll  lay  you."  "  For  the  love  o'  Heaven  go  back 
afore  you're  a  corpse  intoirely ! "  Such  were  a  few  of  the 
many  shrieking  entreaties  with  which  Mr.  Canty  was  freshly 
assailed.  He  raged,  and  swore,  and  left  half  of  his  coat  in 
the  hands  of  the  mob,  but  all  availed  him  not ;  at  length  some 
one  proposed  that,  as  the  crowd  was  sufficiently  large  to  pro- 
tect the  stranger,  a  truce  should  be  made  long  enough  to  en- 
able him  to  speak  to  the  miser  through  a  hole  in  the  window 
of  the  shop. 

Canty  was  in  no  mood  to  use  the  mild  tones  that  might 
have  re-assured  the  trembling  miser  and  induced  him  to  take 
down  his  barricade ;  he  was  sore,  angry,  mortified,  and  dis- 
comfited, and  he  roared  through  the  circular  space  tor  admis- 
sion in  a  way  that  made  old  Maloney  roar  back  his  determin- 
ation to  shoot  the  first  man  who  dared  to  force  an  entrance. 
Thus  repulsed,  the  humiliated  applicant  was  obliged  to  desist, 
and  with  loud,  deep  curses  he  turned  his  face  to  the  car-office 


JfR   CANTY' 8  RECEPTION  a,j 

followed  by  the  rabble,  the  foremost  of  whom  were  shrieking 
in  his  ears  :  "  Glory  be  to  God  that  you're  saved  !  if  you  list- 
ened to  rayson  afore  it's  not  to  all  this  throuble  you'd  be  put- 
tin'  us  ;  be  thankful,  man,  that  you  kem  off  wid  yer  loife,  an' 
niver  moind  the  condition  o'  yer  clothes," — as  Canty,  r.earing 
the  car-office,  took  a  hasty  survey  of  his  dilapidated  person. 

By  this  time  a  ludicrous  side  of  the  affair  presented  itself 
to  some  wag  in  the  crowd,  and  a  mirthful  remark  from  him 
provoked  a  simultaneous  roar  of  laughter.  That  was  too 
much  for  the  hitherto  proud  and  overbearing  sport, — to  be 
laughed  at  by  that  horrid  rabble,  in  addition  to  the  thought 
of  how  he  would  ever  face  Tralee  in  his  present  absurd  con- 
dition ;  he  was  maddened,  and  darted,  he  hardly  knew 
whither  ;  he  had  taken,  however,  the  road  to  the  post-office  ; 
adjacent  were  the  public  stables,  and  there,  fortunately,  he 
found  a  vehicle. 

"  Anywhere,"  he  said  to  the  driver,  who  was  keen  enough 
to  suspect  that  his  sorry-looking,  breathless  customer  was  the 
victim  of  some  practical  joke,  "  only  get  me  out  of  this  cursed 
place ! " 

He  jumped  into  the  conveyance,  which  immediately  drove 
off,  followed  by  as  hearty  and  prolonged  a  cheer  as  ever  burst 
from  human  throats.  The  fun  of  the  affair  now  alone  pos- 
sessed the  rabble,  and  some,  when  Tighe  a  Vohr's  name  was 
mentioned  in  connection  with  the  origin  of  the  trouble,  were 
shrewd  enough  to  see  in  the  whole  one  of  Tighe's  wonted 
"  divartin'  thricks."  That  made  their  mirth  none  the  less, 
however,  and  the  fact  that  old  Maloney  never  relaxed  his  fears 
sufficiently  to  take  down  his  barricade  until  nearly  sundown 
was  an  additional  incentive  to  the  universal  merriment. 

Tim  Carmody,  on  his  rapid  way  to  Tralee  in  company  with 
the  priest  and  the  two  ladies,  was  vividly  picturing  to  himself 
the  whole  ludicrous  scene.  Father  Meagher  had  given  the 
account  of  what  he  saw,  and  while  the  worthy  priest  was  won- 
dering what  could  be  the  origin  of  the  trouble,  and  deploring 
the  state  of  society  existing  among  the  lower  class  which  could 


tI4  CARROLL  OfDONOGHUH 

cause  such  scandalous  excitement,  Tighe  was  coughing,  wip- 
ing his  face,  talking  to  Shaun,  thrusting  his  head  out  of  the 
window,  and  acting  in  an  exceedingly  restless  manner  to  sup- 
press the  mirth  with  which  he  was  inwardly  exploding.  What 
would  he  not  have  given  to  be  present  at  Mr.  Canty's  recep- 
tion !  and  it  was  only  on  their  arrival  at  Tralee,  and  the  near 
approach  of  that  visit  to  which,  though  Tighe  himself  was  not 
to  enjoy,  he  looked  forward  with  anxious  interest,  that  he  be- 
came  composed  and  scriosa. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

CARROLL   SEES    HIS    FRIENDS. 

THE  quartermaster  had  kept  his  word  ;  unquestioned,  and 
apparently  even  unnoticed,  the  little  party  of  three  were  con- 
ducted to  the  cell  of  Carroll  O'Donoghue.  The  iron  door 
swung  open,  and  they  were  in  the  presence  of  the  prisoner. 
The  feeble  rays  of  a  lamp  revealing  him  with  partial  distinct- 
ness made  him  look  white  and  worn,  as,  seated  on  his  pallet, 
he  had  turned  his  head  in  anxious  expectation  at  the  entrance 
of  the  party.  He  sprung  up,  but  momentary  weakness,  caused 
by  the  sudden  joy,  overcame  him,  and  he  tottered  forward. 
Father  Meagher  caught  him,  tears  of  which  the  tender-hearted 
priest  was  not  ashamed  rapidly  coursing  down  his  cheeks, 
and  Clare's  and  Nora's  grief  flowing  in  unison.  Clare,  aftei 
her  first  wild  embrace,  would  bring  the  lamp  close  to  her 
brother  to  note  the  ravages  of  his  imprisonment ;  though  the 
latter  did  not  complete  a  month,  the  marks  of  that  close  and 
solitary  incarceration  were  many  and  deep.  Lines  of  suffer- 
ing were  worn  in  his  face,  which  had  become  so  thin  and  so 
white  as  to  be  almost  transparent,  while,  mixed  with  the  golden 
'ocks  that  waved  upon  his  brow,  Clare  fancied  she  detected 
the  gleam  of  many  a  silver  hair.  He  smiled  at  her  fond  sur- 
vey,— the  old-time  smile  that  was  so  wont  to  kindle  his  face, 
but  which  now,  despite  his  effort  to  the  contrary,  had  a  sad- 
ness about  it  more  touching  than  a  surer  evidence  of  grief 
would  have  been. 

44 1  am  not  changed,"  he  answered,  striving  to  speak  gayly, 

and  drawing  to  a  tighter  clasp  the  hand  of   Nora,  which  he 

had  already  fondly  seized.     Clare  put  the  lamp  down  without 

answering,  but  her  passionate  eyes  told  the  opinion  she  would 

<»>*> 


,,6  CARROLL 

not  trust  hcnelf  to  utter.  "  Tell  me  how  this  good  fortune 
has  happened,"  resumed  the  prisoner  ;  "  I  have  been  solitary 
so  long  that  I  feared  I  should  see  none  of  you  until  we  should 
meet  in  the  court-room  on  the  day  of  my  trial." 

"It  is  due  to  Tighe  a  Vohr,"  responded  the  priest;  "by 
what  means  he  would  not  say  ;  but  we  owe  to  him  the  privi- 
lege of  this  visit." 

"  Always  Tighe  ! "  murmured  Carroll ;  "  my  heart  has  ached 
to  see  the  faithful  fellow.  Knowing  his  affection  for  me,  and 
his  ability  to  accomplish  almost  anything  upon  which  he  de- 
termines, I  half  expected  to  see  him  before  this  ;  but  he  has 
given  sufficient  proof  of  his  solicitude  for  me  in  contriving  to 
bring  about  this  visit ! "  and  a  smile  of  tender  affection 
beamed  on  his  visitors,  resting  longest,  however,  on  pale, 
silent  Nora. 

Father  Meagher  was  mentally  debating  the  propriety  of 
making  some  communication  ;  at  length  he  decided. 

"  Carroll,  I  have  somethiag  to  tell  you  about  Morty  Carter  ; 
I  would  put  you  on  your  guard " 

He  was  interrupted  by  Carroll  hastily  rising  from  his  seat, 
and  answering  with  a  strange  impetuosity  :  "  Father,  I  beg 
of  you  to  say  no  more  ;  I  know  all  you  would  tell  me,  and  I 
implore  you  to  spare  me  your  recital." 

It  was  the  priest's  turn  to  rise  in  astonishment  from  the  one 
stool  which  the  cell  possessed,  and  which  he  had  taken,  while 
the  ladies  had  preferred  to  seat  themselves  on  the  pallet  be- 
side the  prisoner  :  "  My  dear  boy,  how  could  you  have  heard  ? 
who  has  told  you  ?  " 

"  Ask  me  not,  fathei,  I  implore  you, — it  would  be  too  har- 
rowing ;  I  could  not  bear  it !  " 

The  priest  was  silent,  convinced  that  Carroll,  by  some 
mysterious  means,  had  discovered  Carter's  perfidy,  little 
thinking  that  Carroll  had  resorted  to  this  entreaty  to  spare 
himself  the  pain  of  hearing  Carter  defamed  when  he  was  not 
tt  liberty  to  defend  him. 

The  short  half-hour  allotted  for  the  visit  was  almost  ovei. 


CARROLL  8EE8  HIS  FRIENDS.  aiy 

As  the  minutes  drew  to  a  close  an  insufferable  weight  pressed 
upon  Nora's  heart, — a  feeling  that  in  all  her  grief  she  had 
never  before  experienced,  and  which  she  was  utterly  unable 
to  explain  ;  she  clung  to  Carroll  in  an  agony  of  sorrow.  It 
was  so  unusual  to  see  her  thus, — she,  whose  calmness,  and 
strength,  and  heroic  resignation  fortified  Clare,  and  even  edi- 
fied Father  Meagher — that  both  pressed  to  her  now,  and  be- 
sought to  know  the  cause  ;  Carroll  himself,  in  the  deepest 
distress,  entreated  her  to  tell. 

"  I  hardly  know,"  she  said  through  her  streaming  tears  ; 
"  it  is  as  it  some  other  trouble  than  this  dreadful  one  which 
threatens  was  going  to  part  us — a  something  that  will  make 
our  paths  in  this  world  lie  widely  and  forever  apart." 

"That  cannot  be,"  interposed  Carroll,  gently;  "unless, 
indeed,  you  prove  false  to  the  troth  you  have  plighted  me." 

A  look  was  her  only  answer  ;  a  look  of  such  affectionate 
reproach,  and  deep  tenderness,  that  the  young  man  never  for- 
got it. 

"  Nora,"  he  said  earnestly,  "  though  the  world  should 
change,  remember  that  my  heart  can  never  change  to  you  ;  its 
latest  affection  will  be  for  you  ;  should  I  suffer  the  extreme 
penalty,  as  I  fear  I  shall  do,  my  last  sigh,  my  last  thought, 
shall  be  of  you  !  " 

The  time  was  quite  up ;  the  guard  already  at  the  door,  and 
the  horrible  grating  of  the  lock  as  it  turned  sounding  in  their 
ears  ;  Father  Meagher  had  given  his  blessing,  and  torn  him- 
self away,  unable  to  say  adieu  ;  the  distracted  girls  still  clung 
to  the  prisoner. 

"  Oh,  Carroll,  my  brother,  how  can  I  leave  you !  "  and 
Clare's  low,  passionate  sobs  were  vented  upon  his  bosom.  He 
held  them  both  ;  he  sought  to  comfort  each,  and  when  the 
door  swung  back,  revealing  the  affecting  scene  to  the  guard, 
even  the  latter  was  touched  ;  he  drew  back  involuntarily,  as 
if  he  would  give  them  another  moment. 

"  Go  !  "  said  Carroll,  freeing  himself  from  the  frantic  clasp 
«f  hands  that  would  have  held  him  forever  ;  and  they  reluc- 


sxg  OAEROLL  VDONOGffUB. 

tantly  obeyed.  From  the  doorway  all  turned  to  look  one  mow 
adieu.  On  Nora  that  scene  was  burningly  impressed  ;  in 
after  days,  when  a  more  bitter  and  dreadful  anguish  than  any 
which  had  yet  come  upon  her  was  searing  her  heart,  she  was 
to  revert  to  that  solitary  figure  standing  in  its  miserable  cell, 
with  hands  outstretched  as  if  in  its  agony  it  would  have  called 
them  back,  and  face  expressive  of  so  heart-broken  a  woe  that 
her  soul  was  wrung  by  it. 

Tighe  a  Vohr  awaited  them  outside  the  jail ;  his  ardent 
imagination  had  been  picturing  an  affecting  scene,  and  it 
needed  but  one  glance  at  their  mournful  faces  to  bring  the 
ready  tears  to  his  eyes. 

"  Accept  our  thanks,  my  faithful  fellow,"  said  Father  Mea- 
gher  at  the  station  whither  Tighe  had  accompanied  them 
when  he  learned  that  they  would  take  the  night  car  to 
Dhrommacohol  ;  and  the  priest  warmly  shook  Tighe's  hand. 

Tighe  dashed  the  sleeve  of  his  coat  across  his  eyes ;  he 
could  not  trust  himself  to  reply  ;  for  if  he  did  he  would  have 
blubbered  like  a  child.  Pulling  his  hat  over  his  face,  he  wait- 
ed till  the  car  started,  and  then  he  turned  away  to  seek  the 
temporary  lodging  which  he  had  hired  in  the  town.  Early 
the  next  morning  Tighe  a  Vohr,  accompanied  by  his  constant 
companion,  Shaun,  was  on  his  way  to  the  stable  of  "  Brian 
Boru."  There  were  four  days  yet  before  that  appointed  for 
the  race,  and  thus  far  all  his  plans  had  succeeded  admirably ; 
still  he  was  tormented  by  one  fear, — that  Carter  might  return 
home  from  Dublin  in  time  to  discover  the  imposition  that  had 
been  practiced,  and  to  spoil  all  Tighe's  cunningly  contrived 
schemes.  Trusting,  however,  to  the  singular  good  fortune 
which  rarely  entirely  deserted  him,  and  which  so  often  pro- 
duced something  in  his  favor  at  the  very  last  moment,  he  re- 
solved to  yield  no  more  to  his  fear.  His  resolution  was 
strengthened  when  shortly  after,  mounted  on  the  back  of 
**  Brian  Boru,"  and  flying  over  the  country  in  true  racing 
style,  he  felt  all  that  elation  of  spirits  which  is  due  to  a  fine 
morning,  a  magnificent  thorough-bred,  and  a  stretch  of 


CARROLL  SEES  HIS  FRIENDS, 


319 


open,  delightful  country.  Shaun  with,  an  enjoyment  of  his 
own,  entered  into  the  sport ;  he  could  not  keep  up  with  the 
racer,  but  he  gamboled  through  the  fields,  and  at  last  waited 
on  the  road  for  his  master's  return. 

Arty  Moore  was  as  civil  and  obsequious  as  Tighe  could 
wish,  and  the  latter  dropped  shrewd  remarks  calculated  to 
impress  Arty  with  the  fact  that  Mr.  Maloncy  had  been  visited 
by  himself  since  the  latter  had  brought  up  the  horse,  and  how 
satisfied  the  old  miser  was  with  all  arrangements. 

On  his  return  through  the  town  with  a  determination  of 
dropping  in  upon  Corny  O'Tooie,  he  sauntered  into  the  hall 
of  the  "  O'Sullivan  Arms,"  knowing  the  place  to  be  the  head- 
quarters of  much  of  the  sporting  gossip.  An  excited  group 
surrounded  one  of  the  tables,  but  they  were  talking  so  rapid- 
ly, and  so  many  voices  together,  that  for  a  time  Tighe  could 
not  catch  the  drift  of  the  eager  conversation.  At  last  he  was 
convinced  that  the  subject  was  Joe  Canty. 

"  He  is  so  sore  about  this  affair  that  he  will  not  ride,  I  tell 
you." 

"  Oh  yes,  he  will  ;  his  indignation  is  somewhat  spent  now, 
and  for  the  sake  of  the  backers  he  will  not  withdraw  at  this 
late  date." 

"  I  doubt  it ;  why,  I  tell  you  I  never  saw  a  more  violently 
inflamed  man  than  he  was  ;  good  Heavens  1  when  I  think  of 
it ,"  and  the  speaker  paused  to  laugh  loud  and  immoder- 
ately. 

"  Tell  us  about  it !  "  echoed  a  half  dozen  voices  ;  "  give  us 
the  true  version  of  the  affair,  for  there  are  so  many  stories 
afloat  about  it  that  it  is  difficult  to  pick  out  the  right  one  ;  one 
rumor  is  that  he  was  set  on  by  this  Mr.  Maloney  and  beaten 
almost  to  death  ;  another,  that  the  people  of  the  confounded 
village,  or  whatever  it  is,  threatened  to  devour  him,  body  and 
bones,  if  he  did  not  immediately  return  ;  and  still  another 
says  that  the  horse,  which  is  reported  to  be  Mr.  Maloney's 
bedfellow,  thrust  his  head  through  a  hole  in  the  door,  and  so 
frightened  poor  Canty  that  he  had  to  run  for  his  life." 


j20  CARROLL  VDONOGHUK 

"  Well,  boys,  the  story  which  says  the  people  ef  Dhromma- 
cohol  threatened  to  devour  poor  Canty  is  nearer  the  truth  than 
any  of  the  others.  The  moment  he  stepped  from  the  car,  and 
had  received  from  a  little  urchin  of  whom  he  inquired  full 
directions  to  Mr.  Maloney's,  he  was  accosted  first  by  one  man, 
asking  him  if  he  wasn't  going  to  Mr.  Maloney's,  and  begging 
him  to  relurn,  as  it  would  be  as  much  as  his  life  would  be 
worth  to  go  on  ;  then  by  another,  with  the  same  story  and  en- 
treaty ;  immediately  after  by  a  third  ;  and  so  on,  till  he  was 
surrounded  by  a  howling  crowd  of  devils,  as  Canty  calls  them  ; 
oh,  Lord  !  it's  too  much  !  "  — and  again  the  speaker  paused 
to  give  vent  to  loud  and  prolonged  mirth,  in  which  he  was 
heartily  joined.  "  Well,  although  he  thought  he  was  sur- 
rounded by  a  set  of  lunatics,  poor  Joe  became  desperate,  and 
determined  to  press  on  ;  the  mad  rabble  were  as  desperate,  and 
they  pressed  on,  too,  holding  on  to  his  clothes  till  they  didn't 
leave  a  whole  tatter  on  his  back,  and  howling  and  shrieking,  till 
he  felt  like  becoming  as  mad  as  themselves.  Then  the  priest 
came  on  the  scene,  but  as  he  could  only  stay  a  minute  he  didn't 
make  matters  much  better,  for  the  moment  he  was  gone 
they  set  to  on  Canty  worse  than  before.  By  this  time  they  had 
reached  old  Maloney's  place,  it  seems,  and,  worse  than  all,  for 
some  reason  or  other  he  had  it  shut  up  tight ;  then  some  one 
proposed  to  have  Canty  speak  through  a  hole  in  the  door, 
and  when  he  did  he  received  an  answer  that  Mr.  Maloney 
was  waiting  to  shoot  the  first  man  who  would  try  to  enter. 
That  settled  the  matter  ;  poor  Joe  faced  about  for  the  post- 
office,  followed  again  by  the  whole  mad,  howling  crowd,  and 
when  he  jumped  into  the  first  vehicle  he  could  find  to  bear 
him  from  the  scene,  they  set  up  such  a  cheer  for  the  poor 
torn,  desperate  fellow,  that  he  swears  it  is  ringing  in  his  ears 
yet,  and  he  relieves  himself  by  cursing  Dhrommacohol,  Mr. 
Maloney,  and  Morty  Carter.  If  he  knew  Carter's  address 
in  Dublin  he  would  send  him  a  pretty  stinging  message." 

There  was  another  prolonged  roar,  in  which  none  joined 
more  heartily  than  Tighe  a  Vohr,  who,  from  a  safe  corner, 


CARROLL  BEES  HIS  FRIENDS.  221 

could  hear  and  laugh  without  exposing  himself  to  unpleasant 
observation. 

"  And  do  you  think  he  will  ride  after  all  that  ? " 

"I  do  not,"  replied  the  man  who  had  narrated  the  story. 

"  But  I  do,"  responded  he  who  previously  expressed  him- 
self sanguine  as  to  the  prospect  of  Canty's  part  in  the  race. 
"  He'll  get  over  this,  and  his  backers  will  urge  him  ;  then  he 
is  such  an  excellent  horseman  that  he  can  well  afford  to  rely 
upon  his  skill  to  bear  him  through,  even  though  he  does  not 
see  the  horse  until  the  morning  of  the  race." 

"Perhaps  he  will  make  another  attempt  to  visit  Mr.  Ma- 
loney." 

"  Not  he  !  the  very  mention  of  Dhrommacohol  is  enough 
to  put  him  in  a  cold  sweat,  and  he'll  no  more  set  foot  in  that 
part  of  the  country  than  the  divil'd  dip  his  hand  in  holy 
water." 

Tighe,  holding  his  sides,  left  the  coffee-room.  "  Oh,  Shaun, 
we  fixed  him — sure  we  laid  him  out  beautifully  !  an'  now  we'll 
hurry  to  tell  it  all  to  Corny." 

The  side-splitting  recital  which  Tighe  gave  to  Mr.  O'Toole 
proved  a  sovereign  balm  to  the  little  man  for  the  humiliation 
to  which  he  had  been  subjected  by  Mr.  Canty.  He  chuckled, 
and  rubbed  his  hands,  and  shook  Tighe's  hand  in  congratula- 
tion, and  actually,  to  Tighe's  intense  astonishment  and  amuse- 
ment, cut  pirouettes  upon  the  floor,  supposed  to  be  the  diffi- 
cult steps  of  an  Irish  jig. 

"  Faith,  Corny,  if  me  mother  could  only  see  that,  hei 
heart'd  be  taken  intoirely." 

Whereupon  Mr.  O'Toole's  ungainly  feet  executed  new 
flourishes,  until  Tighe,  catching  the  spirit  of  the  movement, 
joined  in  the  jig,  snapping  his  fingers  to  the  motion  of  his 
feet,  and  frequently  giving  utterance  to  a  cheer  expressive  of 
his  feelings,  and  the  neighbors,  attracted  by  the  noise,  began 
to  collect  outside  the  door. 

"Well  done,  me  boy!"  said  Tighe,  stopping  at  last  and 
shaking  Comy's  hand  vigorously  ;  and  then  both,  tired  and 


,21  CARROLL  VDONOGIIUR. 

breathless,  threw  themselves  into  seats,  while  the  neighbors, 
hearing  no  more  jigging,  passed  on,  entertaining  stranger 
opinions  than  ever  about  that  odd  little  man,  Corny  O'Toole. 
"  You'll  be  to  the  fore  on  the  mornin'  o'  the  race,  Corny  ? " 
•aid  Tighe. 

"Of  course,  my  boy  ;  if  it  was  only  to  see  how  that  knave 
of  a  Canty  will  take  his  disappointment." 

"But  what,  Corny,  it"  ould  Gartner  should  come  back  afore 
the  d.iy  o'  the  race ;  what'd  become  o'  me  ?" 

"  Tighe,  my  boy,  Heaven  always  protects  its  own  ;  and  you 
the  dutiful  son  of  so  respected  a  mother  as  Mrs.  Mollie  Car- 
mody,  and  the  truthful,  upright,  noble  boy  that  you  are, 
Timothy  Carmody,  who  ought  to  be  Timothy  O'Toole,  are 
the  object  of  its  constant  and  special  protection." 

Either  the  great  and  unwonted  exertion  which  Mr.  O'Toole 
had  so  recently  made,  or  the  effect  of  a  potation  that  he  had 
taken  before  Tighe's  arrival,  conspired  to  make  his  voice  less 
steady  than  usual,  and,  as  if  conscious  of  that  fact  and  de- 
sirous of  making  up  for  it,  he  nodded  his  head  at  his  visitor 
with  every  word  that  he  uttered,  until  at  the  last,  entirely 
overcome,  he  dropped  forward  on  the  table  and  went  »ast 


CHAPTER  XX VIII 

THE     RACE, 

THE  morning  of  the  race  dawned  bright  and  clear,  and 
Tralee,  despite  the  excitement  caused  by  the  approaching 
trials  of  the  Fenian  prisoners,  six  of  whom  beside  Carroll 
O'Donoghue  were  confined  in  the  county  jail,  seemed  to 
be  equally  excited  about  the  coming  race.  All  the  town 
appeared  on  its  way  to  the  course  ;  from  gigs  driven  tandem, 
to  curricles,  and  painted  jaunting  cars  moving  on  springs, 
family  carts  improvised  into  jaunting  cars,  and  innocent  of 
springs  or  paint,  every  description  of  vehicle  was  employed, 
and  laughing  faces  and  bright  eyes  looked  from  every  one  of 
them.  The  road  leading  to  the  course  was  crowded  ;  and 
between  the  sallies  of  good-natured  drivers,  the  impreca- 
tions of  jostled  pedestrians,  and  the  laughing  repartees  of 
some  of  the  occupants  of  the  various  vehicles,  all  was  a  scene 
of  happy  confusion.  The  stand  reserved  for  ladies  and 
gentlemen  of  high  social  position  was  already  full,  and  still 
each  moment  brought  a  fresh  accession  of  gay  gallants  and 
rosy-cheeked,  mirthful  damsels.  The  Widow  Moore,  stout, 
fair,  and  resplendent  in  a  light  robe  that  set  off  her  clear  com- 
plexion and  admirably  displayed  her  fine  form,  was  foremost 
among  a  bevy  of  beauties,  and  surrounded  by  a  half  dozen 
admiring  masculine  satellites.  Garfield  was  there,  considera- 
bly removed  from  her,  but  where  his  eyes  could  devour  her. 
His  jealousy,  as  he  observed  the  gracious,  familiar  manner 
with  which  she  accepted  the  attentions  of  her  admirers,  would 
have  been  more  violent  but  that  he  remembered,  and  now 
fondly  believed,  all  that  Tighe  had  told  him.  He  was  fully 
persuaded  that  she  liked  him  in  secret,  and  that  she  was 


t>4  CARROLL  VDONOQHUR. 

anxious  for  the  success  of  his  horse  in  the  race.  And  Corny 
O'Toole  was  there,  in  his  antiquated  costume,  and  as  near  the 
place  whence  the  horses  were  to  start  as  it  was  possible  for 
him  to  get,  in  order  that  he  might  have  a  close  view  of  Joe 
Canty's  discomfiture  ;  already  it  was  rumored  that  Canty  was 
well-nigh  insane  because  of  the  non-appearance  of  the  animal 
he  was  to  ride,  and  that  messengers  and  runners  were  hurry- 
ing in  every  direction  to  obtain  some  tidings  of  the  absent 
racer,  A  telegram  had  been  dispatched  to  Mr.  Maloney,  but 
no  answer  had  been  received  thus  far,  and  it  was  within  a  few 
minutes  of  the  starting  time.  Canty  danced  with  passion, 
swearing  that  he  was  the  victim  of  some  trick,  and  all  his 
backers  looked  blue  with  consternation. 

"  Time  !  "  called  the  starter. 

Everything  became  bustle  and  expectation.  One  by  one 
the  horses  were  called,  and  led  out  to  their  respective  places, 
their  jockeys  standing  beside  them  ready  to  mount. 

"  Brian  Boru"  was  the  last  called,  and  a  buzz  of  admiration 
followed  the  appearance  of  the  magnificent  steed.  Timothy 
O'Carmody,  in  true,  jockey  style,  every  garment  a  perfect  fit, 
and  his  lithe  form  cunningly  made  up  to  reach  the  required 
weight,  stood  beside  him. 

The  horse  "  Charmer,"  not  appearing,  was  withdrawn. 

The  jockeys  mounted,  the  signal  was  given,  and  the  horses 
started.  They  kept  well  together  for  the  first  stretch,  neck 
and  neck  with  even  speed  and  equal  mettle.  Intense  excite- 
ment and  eager  expectation  prevailed,  even  among  the  fair 
sex,  who,  as  enthusiastic  as  the  most  interested  of  their  mas- 
culine friends,  leaned  forward,  clapping  their  hands,  waving 
their  handkerchiefs,  and  making  their  own  shrewd  guesses  as 
to  the  power  and  endurance  of  the  animals.  Neck  and  neck 
they  flew,  now  one  horse  a  head's  length  in  front,  now  another 
badly  lagging  for  a  moment,  then  recovering  lost  ground  by  a 
sudden  feat  which  brought  him  the  length  of  a  neck  ahead  ; 
but  "  Brian  Boru  "  seemed  to  continue  at  the  same  rate  of 
•peed  with  which  he  had  started,  nor  did  his  rider  appear  to 


THE  RAVB.  M5 

be  making  any  extra  effort.  With  a  careless  grace  Tighe  sat 
his  horse,  now  stretching  forward  to  slacken  his  bridle  rein, 
now  straightening  himself  to  hold  in  the  animal,  but  doing  all 
with  an  easy  manner  which  proclaimed  his  perfect  skill  and 
confidence.  There  was  none  of  the  nervous  dash  about  him 
that  marked  his  fellow  riders,  and  his  horsemanship,  so  easy, 
so  apparently  careless  of  effort,  was  rather  calculated  to  make 
an  unfavorable  impression. 

The  horses  were  now  on  the  home  stretch,  each  animal,  ex- 
cepting Tighe's,  spurred  to  its  greatest  endurance.  On  they 
flew,  manes  streaming,  hoofs  striking  fire  from  the  track,  and 
riders  strained  to  their  utmost  nerve.  More  eager,  more  wild, 
grew  the  expectation  of  the  spectators — a  breath  might  be 
heard  ;  and  cheeks  flushed,  and  bosoms  swelled  with  the  ardor 
of  the  moment. 

The  attention  of  Garfield,  at  last  withdrawn  from  the  widow, 
was  tremblingly  centered  on  the  race.  His  heavy  face  was 
unusually  flushed,  and  his  small  pale  eyes  shone  with  a  singu- 
lar light  ;  he  leaned  forward,  clasping  his  hands  so  tightly  to- 
gether in  his  excitement  that  the  nails  sunk  deep  into  the  flesh, 
A  half-smothered  oath  was  on  his  lips  as  he  saw  "  Brian  Boru  " 
drop  a  full  length  behind,  and  still  his  easy  rider  appear  to 
make  no  effort  to  recover  the  loss. 

But  Tighe  a  Vohr  knew  well  what  he  was  doing  ;  he  had 
not  made  daily  trials  of  the  horse  for  the  past  week  without  be- 
coming perfectly  aware  of  the  nerve  and  temper  of  the  ani- 
mal, and  by  what  peculiar  means  of  his  own  he  could  cause 
"  Brian  "  to  perform  unusual  feats  of  speed.  He  waited  till 
they  were  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  the  home  stakes,  then 
with  an  easy  flourish  of  his  whip,  a  single  straightening  of  him- 
self in  the  saddle,  he  put  his  horse  to  its  full  racing  power. 
In  <*  short  time  he  had  distanced  his  competitors  by  a  neck  ; 
in  vain  the  latter  strove  to  recover  their  ground  ;  "Brian 
Boru's  "  mettle,  hitherto  not  fully  displayed,  was  unequaled, 
and  in  a  few  seconds  more  he  came  gallantly  in,  the  winner 
by  two  full  lengths. 


2l(j  CARROLL  VDONOGHVB. 

Cheer  after  cheer  was  given  :  people  were  wild,  and  Tigha 
was  speedily  surrounded  by  a  dozen  or  more  of  hearty,  genial, 
delighted  fellows  who  fain  would  have  borne  him  in  triumph 
upon  their  shoulders  ;  while  Garfield  was  the  center  of  a  large 
group  of  lucky  bettors,  each  in  turn  shaking  him  by  the  hand 
and  congratulating  him  and  themselves  in  a  breath. 

Corny  OToole  was  beside  himself  with  joy.  He  threw  up 
his  hat,  and  he  executed  pirouettes,  to  the  intense  amusement 
of  wandering  spectators,  and  then,  even  before  he  would  see 
Tighe  a  Vohr,  he  went  in  search  of  Joe  Canty,  who,  some  one 
said,  was  being  held  by  main  force  within  one  of  the  booths. 
Corny's  pleasure  would  not  have  been  complete  without  a 
sight  of  the  humbled  and  discomfited  sport,  and  perhaps,  also, 
without  an  opportunity  of  making  some  mockingly  triumphant 
speech  to  the  latter. 

The  report  of  Canty  was  not  wrong  ;  four  of  his  own  class 
were  about  him,  seeking  to  detain  him  from  rushing  out  madly 
upon  the  track. 

"  I  shall  shoot  .Carter  !  "  he  shrieked  ;  "  this  is  all  an  infer- 
nal trick  to  make  me  fail,  and  that  fellow  Carmody,  whom  no- 
body except  Garfield  seemed  to  know  anything  about,  is  at 
the  bottom  of  it — he,  and  Maloney,  and  that  jackass  that 
came  with  the  message  to  me  the  other  day." 

"  Hew  can  that  be,"  answered  one  of  his  friends,  "  when 
Carter  and  Maloney  both  will  be  heavy  losers  by  this  affair  ?  " 

Just  then  Corny  O'Toole  thrust  his  head  into  the  inclosure, 
"  The  jackass'd  like  to  congratulate  you,  Mr.  Canty,  on  the 
success  of  your  knavery,  and  to  tell  you  you'd  better  spare 
your  powder  on  Carter — it'll  do  you  little  good." 

"  Let  me  at  him  ! "  shrieked  Canty,  striving  desperately  to 
release  himself,  and  to  spring  after  Corny.  His  rage  was  so 
violent  that  froth  issued  from  his  mouth  ;  but  he  was  firmly 
held,  and  Corny  O'Toole,  with  a  mocking  chuckle,  disap- 
peared as  suddenly  as  he  had  thrust  himself  into  their  sight. 

Excitement  reigned  everywhere,  and  on  different  parts  of 
the  course  shillalahs  and  whisky  had  a  due  meed  of  attention. 


THE  RACE. 


22) 


The  bettors  were  busy  with  their  important  Interests,  and 
Gai  field  was  in  too  much  demand  to  be  able  to  seek  the 
Widow  Moore,  as  he  desired  anxiously  to  do.  Now,  in  the 
flush  of  that  success  for  which  he  fondly  believed  she  also 
ardently  had  hoped,  he  thought  he  might  venture  to  approach 
and  address  her  ;  but  his  presence  was  necessary  in  the  sport- 
ing circle  whose  interests  were  so  intimately  concerned  with 
his  own,  and  thither  he  was  reluctantly  borne  by  his  friends. 

Tighe  a  Vohr,  now  that  so  much  had  been  successfully 
accomplished,  began  to  think  somewhat  of  what  the  conse 
quences  must  be  to  himself.  Breaking  away  from  his  admir- 
ing friends,  many  of  whom  had  been  astounded  to  recognize 
in  the  successful  jockey  the  well-known  Tighe  a  Vohr,  and 
who  now,  in  their  ardent  friendship,  would  have  detained  him 
by  main  force,  he  sought  the  stall  of  "  Brian  Boru,"  and  there, 
attending  to  the  horse,  he  encountered  Arty  Moore,  the  groom, 
whom  he  had  left  in  the  little  country  place  where  the  horse 
had  been  stabled,  with  an  injunction  to  remain  there  till  he, 
Tighe,  should  return  with  the  animal.  There  was  a  knowing 
look  in  Arty's  eyes,  and  a  boldness  of  manner  very  different 
from  the  cringing,  humble  air  which  had  previously  marked 
his  deportment  to  Tighe. 

"  How  dare  you  disobey  me  ordhers  ? "  asked  Tighe,  with  an 
assumption  of  indignant  authority  that  would  not  have  done 
discredit  to  Lord  Heathcote  himself. 

Arty  nodded  with  provoking  familiarity,  and  returned 
Tighe's  stare  with  one  of  equal  fearlessness.  Coming  close  to 
Tighe  a  Vohr  he  whispered  :  "  I  know  all  about  it,  Mr.  Car- 
mody,  and  it  was  a  very  clever  trick  indeed,  you  played  ;  I 
have  not  said  a  word  to  anybody  here,  and  I  won't,  provid- 
ing you  share  halves,  you  know." 

Tighe  gave  a  prolonged  whistle,  pretending  to  be  dumb- 
founded, and  awed  as  well.  "  Tell  me  how  you  found  it  all 
out,  Arty?" 

"  Well,  do  you  see,  I  had  a  great  mind  to  witness  the  race 
— a  great  mind  entirely  ;  and  when  you  told  me  to  remain 


2*S  CARROLL  VDONOGHUB. 

where  I  was,  it  seemed  very  hard.  Besides,  Mr.  Carmody— 
you'll  forgive  me  for  saying  so — but  when  you  were  so  deter- 
mined on  my  staying  behind  there,  and  not  coming  forward 
with  the  horse,  I  began  to  have  suspicions  of  my  own.  I 
waited  till  you  were  well  gone,  and  I  followed.  It  all  seemed 
right  enough  till  the  horse  was  led  out  as  '  Brian  Boru.'  I  knew 
he  had  been  entered  for  the  race  as  '  Charmer  ; '  that  opened 
my  eyes  a  bit,  and  it  wasn't  very  long  till  I  heard  the  people 
talking  of  the  dreadful  state  Mr.  Canty  was  in  because  his 
horse  didn't  arrive,  and  then  Mr.  Maloney's  name  began  to 
be  mentioned  ;  it  all  flashed  on  me,  and  faith  1  couldn't  help 
admiring  you  for  the  clever  trick  you  played  on  old  Maloney. 
I  resolved  to  keep  my  counsel,  for  I  thought  you'd  be  gener- 
ous, Mr.  Carmody." 

"  An'  I  will  be,  Arty,"  said  Tighe,  extending  his  hand,  and 
assuming  an  expression  as  if  he  was  just  released  from  a 
shower-bath.  "  But  the  shtakes  are  not  paid  up  yit,  so  that  I 
haven't  recaved  the  amount  they're  to  give  me.  But  can  I 
thrust  you,  Arty,  to  help  me,  if  I  say  a  fair  half  ?  " 

"  With  all  my  soul !  "  and  the  groom's  hand  clasped  Tighe's. 

"  Well,  thin,  it's  repoorted  that  a  tilygraph,  or  some  other 
divilmint,  has  been  sint  to  ould  Maloney,  an'  I'm  afeerd  o' 
what  that  11  bring  foorth  ;  now  I'd  loike  to  have  the  horse  out  o' 
the  way,  an'  mesel',  too.  Will  you  run  away  wid  the  baste  for 
a  couple  or  three  days,  till  I  see  what  turn  matthers  will  take  ? 
On  the  third  day  from  now  I'll  mate  you  in  Dick  Courcy's 
shebeen,  the  same  that  stabled  '  Brian  Boru '  for  us.  You 
can  purtind  to  payple  that  you're  takin'  the  horse  to  his 
masther — an'  that'll  be  no  lie,  for  so  you  will  take  him  to  his 
masther,  only  we'll  thry  first  what  we  can  knock  out  o'  the 
ould  miser.  It'll  swell  our  gains.  Do  you  undhersthand  me, 
Arty  ?  "  And  Tighe  looked  with  a  wonderfully  anxious  gaze 
into  the  snapping  eyes  of  the  groom, 

"  I  do,  Mr.  Carmody,  perfectly ;  and  I'll  do  it  On  the 
third  day  from  this,  say  at  noon,  I'll  wait  foi  you  in 


THE  RACE.  229 

The  conversation  had  been  carried  on  in  a  whisper,  but 
even  if  it  were  not,  everybody  who  approached  the  stall  was 
in  too  much  haste  and  excitement  to  give  it  any  attention. 

44  Away  with  you,  thin  !  "  urged  Tighe  ;  and  it  was  with  a 
smile  of  intense  satisfaction  that  a  few  moments  after  he  be- 
held the  groom,  mounted  on  "  Brian  Boru,"  riding  quietly 
away  from  the  course,  and  in  an  opposite  direction  to  the 
town. 

In  one  portion  of  the  course  the  excitement  had  received  a 
new  and  extraordinary  impulse  in  the  sudden  appearance  of 
a  man  so  tall  in  form  as  to  inspire  awe  by  his  unusual  height, 
and  with  so  sinister  and  repulsive  an  expression  as  to  win 
no  brief  nor  pleasant  observation,  and  dressed  in  so  dirty  and 
strange  a  garb  that  many  shrunk  from  his  approach.  He  was 
screaming  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  and  gesticulating  wildly. 

41  My  horse  !  my  horse  !  I  sent  him  here  ;  he  was  to  run ; 
somebody  has  stolen  him  !  " 

A  crowd  gathered  about  him,  and  by  degrees  sufficient  of 
his  story  was  learned  for  some  one  to  volunteer  to  conduct 
him  to  one  of  the  stands. 

Tighe  a  Vohr,  arm  in  arm  with  Corny  O'Toole,  beheld  the 
approaching  crowd — for  every  one  who  had  heard  the  man's 
strange  account  now  followed  in  his  wake  ;  he  ventured  near 
enough  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  the  gathering.  "  Blood  an* 
ouns !  Corny,  if  it  isn't  ould  Maloney !  oh,  where'll  I  go  at 
all,  at  all  ?  It's  all  up  wid  me  !  " 

Corny  became  unexpectedly  equal  to  the  occasion. 

44  Get  to  my  room  as  fast  as  you  can, — and  stay  there  ;  if 
they  do  discover  enough  to  put  the  police  on  your  track, 
they'll  not  find  you  awhile.  I'll  stay  here  and  see  how  things 
goes." 

44  But  they'll  be  afther  you  too,  Corny ;  Canty'll  tell  how  you 
tuk  the  message." 

44  The  divil  a  one  fear  of  their  getting  anything  out  of  me ; 
I'll  badger  them,  Tighe,  till  they'll  think  they've  got  enough 
of  Corny  O'Toole,  jackass,  as  Mr.  Canty  politely  called  him." 


,30  CARROLL  WDONOGHUE. 

Tighe  a  Vohr  followed  the  little  man's  advice,  and  was  soo« 
safely  housed  in  the  bachelor  apartment,  much  to  the  delight 
of  Shaun,  who  had  been  confined  there  a  very  unhappy 
prisoner  since  early  morning.  He  immediately  began,  with 
the  help  of  sundry  garments  of  Corny's  wardrobe,  to  en- 
deavor to  change  his  dress,  and  thus  to  disguise  effectually  his 
appearance. 

At  that  same  time  the  train  which  came  down  from  Dublin 
brought  Carter  ;  he  was  in  a  flurry  of  excitement,  having 
expected  to  reach  Tralee  in  time  to  witness  the  race.  He 
hired  a  conveyance,  and  was  driven  rapidly  to  the  course. 
He  mentally  cursed  Lord  Heathcote,  who  had  been  the  cause 
of  his  unlucky  detention,  and  with  a  wildly  beating  heart  he 
ordered  the  driver  to  urge  his  horse,  that  at  least  he  might  be 
in  time  for  the  settling  of  the  stakes.  He  was  met  on  the 
grounds,  as  he  descended,  perspiring  and  panting  from  the 
vehicle,  by  one  of  his  intimate  sporting  friends. 

"  Gone — Carter — we've  lost !  " 

"  Lost !  "  Carter  appeared  transfixed  ;  his  eyes  almost  start- 
ing from  their  sockets. 

"  Yes  ;  Canty's  horse  didn't  appear,  and  a  magnificent  ani- 
mal named  'Brian  Boru,'  and  ridden  by  one  Timothy 
O'Carmody,  distanced  all  the  others  without  an  effort." 

"  Timothy  O'Carmody  !  "  repeated  Carter  in  a  dazed  way. 

"  Yes  ;  those  who  know  him  say  he's  always  called  Tighe  a 
Vohr." 

"  Tighe  a  Vohr !  H  Carter  threw  up  his  hands  and  gasped 
for  breath. 

"  It's  the  queerest  piece  of  business  that  ever  happened  on 
a  course,"  resumed  the  first  speaker;  "all  the  morning  Joe 
Canty's  been  swearing  and  fuming  like  a  madman,  and  after 
the  race  was  over  an  old  man,  acting  as  mad  as  a  March  hare, 
came  rushing  on  the  course,  screaming  for  his  horse,  and  say- 
ing that  it  had  been  stolen.  They  have  got  him  now  in  one 
of  the  rooms,  and  he  declares  that  you  sent  Tighe  a  Vohi  for 
the  horse,  which  he  says  is  the  one  that  Canty  was  to  ride  ; 


THE  RACK.  ,31 

and  they  have  dispatched  me  to  find  Canty  ;  so  you  had 
better  hurry  in  yourself," — indicating  the  room  he  had  just 
left — "  and  throw  what  light  you  can  upon  the  matter." 

Carter  required  no  second  bidding  ;  excited  and  panting, 
he  soon  stood  amid  the  equally  excited  inmates  of  the  betting 
room.  On  his  appearance  Maloney,  who  had  been  talking 
and  gesticulating  wildly,  gave  a  shrill  scream  ;  then  he  bounded 
toward  Carter,  uttering  some  frenzied  statement,  but  his  voice 
was  so  thick  from  terror  and  excitement  that  the  word  horse 
alone  could  be  distinguished. 

"  Where  is  your  horse  ? "  yelled  Carter ;  "  why  didn't  he 
run  ?" 

"  Where  is  my  horse  ? "  screamed  Maloney,  this  time  a 
little  more  distinctly  ;  "  you  scoundrel,  tell  me  where  he  is  ?" 
and  he  shook  his  bony  fist  in  Carter's  face. 

At  this  juncture  Canty  entered,  and  seeing  the  attitude  of 
Maloney,  and  fuming  himself  to  be  able  to  revenge  his  disap- 
pointment and  humiliation,  both  of  which  in  his  blind  pas- 
sion he  attributed  to  Carter,  he  rushed  forward,  and  before 
any  one  could  intercept  or  even  devine  his  intention,  planted 
a  well-directed  blow  full  in  Carter's  face.  It  staggered  the 
latter,  and  but  for  the  friendly  support  of  some  one  in  his 
rear  he  would  have  fallen.  The  friends  of  Carter,  indignant 
at  the  outrage,  fell  upon  Canty  ;  but  the  latter  was  not  with- 
out his  sympathizers,  and  they  immediately  assisted  him  in 
true  fighting  style  ;  Carter  and  Maloney,  the  reluctant  centers 
of  the  struggle,  were  obliged  to  strike  in  their  own  defense, 
even  though  the  courage  of  neither  was  of  the  stanchest 
kind.  Everything  became  confusion  and  clamor  ;  it  was  the 
first  melee  of  the  day,  and  the  hot  young  bloods,  of  that  class 
whose  chief  sport  seemed  to  be  breaking  heads  and  disfig- 
uring faces,  hailed  the  affair  with  delight  'Sticks  flew,  chairs 
were  overturned,  and  the  pewter  mugs,  which  stood  on  the 
table  still  reeking  with  the  remains  of  Beamish  and  Craw- 
ford's porter,  were  hurled  among  the  combatants.  Maloney 
was  knocked  down,  and  Carter  was  shoved  heavily  upon  hirr, 


,3a  CARROLL  VDONOQHUB. 

so  that  the  frantic  cries  of  the  miser,  in  which  the  word  horse 
was  incessantly  uttered,  were  somewhat  smothered  by  the 
heavy  weight.  The  fight  speedily  attracted  attention  without 
its  own  immediate  precincts,  and  shortly  almost  every  one  on 
the  course  had  arrived  at  the  scene  of  the  excitement.  The  po- 
lice followed,  and  peace  was  only  restored  when  arrests  had  been 
made  of  the  leaders  in  the  affair — Mortimer  Carter,  Joe  Canty, 
Ned  Maloney,  and  a  couple  of  others  who  seemed  to  have 
taken  the  part  of  instigators.  In  vain  Carter  protested,  say- 
ing that  the  fight  was  a  mistake,  and  the  origin  of  a  misunder- 
standing ;  in  vain  Canty  swore,  and  in  vain  old  Maloney 
pleaded  on  his  knees  to  be  released  that  he  might  look  for  his 
horse  ;  all  were  borne  in  triumph  to  Tralee  bridewell,  and 
Corny  O'Toole,  a  spectator  from  a  distance  of  the  whole 
affair,  grew  so  red  from  laughing  that  his  yellow  complexion, 
to  which  Mrs.  Carmody  objected,  quite  disappeared  for  the 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

TIGHK    A    VOHR'S   SWEETHEART. 

GARFIELD,  and  the  betting  circle  of  whom  he  was  now  the 
popular  center,  had  gayly  pocketed  their  winnings — a  proceed- 
ing which  might  have  been  unpleasantly  delayed  had  it  not 
been  for  Mortimer  Carter's  incarceration.  He  was  now  out 
on  bail,  having  been  confined  but  a  few  hours  ;  and  Canty, 
having  given  surety,  was  also  at  large. 

Old  Maloney  was  not  yet  released,  owing  to  his  inability  to 
procure  a  bondsman  ;  he  was  utterly  unknown  in  Tralee,  and 
if  he  sent  to  Dhrommacohol  he  would  be  as  little  likely  to  find 
any  surety  there.  In  this  despondent  state  he  was  visited  by 
Carter,  at  sight  of  whom  the  old  man  raved  like  a  wild  beast, 
*'  My  horse  !  my  horse,"  his  loud  and  incessant  cry.  It  re- 
quired time  for  Carter  to  quiet  him  sufficiently  to  gain  a  co- 
herent statement ;  but  at  length  he  learned  all :  the  visit  of 
Tighe  a  Vohr  with  the  note,  the  extraordinary  tale  of  Canty's 
forthcoming  arrest,  the  line  of  conduct  prescribed  by  Tighe 
for  the  miser  in  the  event  of  Mr.  Canty's  anticipated 
visit — all  of  which  Maloney  divulged  now  without  a  re- 
gard for  the  oath  of  secrecy  he  had  taken, — his  yield- 
ing of  the  horse  and  groom  to  Tighe,  and  his  remain- 
ing in  quiet  certainty  of  all  being  right — a  certainty  which  the 
fact  of  his  receiving  no  visit  from  Mr.  Canty  rather  strength- 
ened. The  old  miser  did  not  suspect,  and  the  cunning  rabble 
of  Dhrommacohol,  each  of  whom  was  too  ardent  a  friend  of 
Tighe  a  Vohr  to  disobey  him  in  the  slightest  particular,  did 
not  tell  him  that  the  excitement  and  terror  into  which  he  was 
thrown  one  afternoon  by  the  horde  of  yelling  people  in  front 
of  his  door  was  due  to  the  occasion  of  Mr.  Canty's  visit  He 
had  no  suspicion  of  aught  being  wrong  until  the  arrival  of  the 
(«33) 


,34  CARROLL  0DONOQHU& 

telegram  on  the  morning  of  the  race.  The  contents  of  that, 
which  ran : 

"  Your  horse,  '  Charmer,'  has  not  arrived  ;  have  you  sent 
him  ?  " 

and  which  was  signed  Joe  Canty,  put  the  old  man  into 
a  fever.  His  horse  not  arrived,  when  a  week  ago  the  ani- 
mal was  supposed  to  be  stabled  in  Tralee  !  Horrible  fears 
immediately  crowded  on  his  suspicious  and  sinister  mind. 
Like  a  madman  he  locked  up  his  abode,  from  which  he  had 
not  been  absent  for  years  before,  and  took  the  first  car  to 
Tralee.  He  arrived  on  the  course  to  find  the  race  over,  and 
that  his  horse  was  not  among  those  in  the  stalls  ;  nor  had  any 
animal  by  that  name  been  seen. 

Carter  was  in  as  violent  a  rage  as  the  miser  ;  all  the  more 
that  the  payment  of  the  stakes  to  the  fortunate  winners  was 
the  occasion  to  him  of  no  inconsiderable  loss.  Maloney's 
grief  for  his  forfeit  was  somewhat  absorbed  in  his  greater  dis-j 
tress  for  the  abstraction  of  his  horse.  "  It's  all  the  doings 
of  that  devil  of  a  Tighe  a  Vohr,"  said  Carter,  striding  the 
prison  floor  ;  "  I  wrote  a  note  telling  of  my  intended  journej 
to  Dublin,  in  consequence  of  which  I  should  be  prevented 
from  going  down  to  Dhrommacohol  for  the  horse  as  I  had 
promised,  and  bidding  you  bring  him  up  yourself ;  and  that 
note  I  gave  to  a  little  runner  at  Hoolahan's,  who  was  going 
down  your  way,  to  give  you." 

"  He  never  came  near  me  !  "  protested  Maloney. 

"  Nor  Canty  ?  "  asked  Carter,  though  he  had  already  heard 
a  second  time  from  Maloney  that  there  had  been  :x>  visit  of 
the  sporting  man  to  his  place. 

The  miser  answered  testily  :  "  I  told  you  before  he  didn't 
come." 

"  It's  past  understanding,"  resumed  Carter  :  "but  there's 
nothing  too  big  nor  too  bad  for  that  infernal  Tighe  a  Vohr  : 
he'd  go  to  hell  to  serve  Carroll  O'Donoghue,  and  I'll  warrant 
he's  had  some  object  that  was  to  benefit  his  master  at  the  bot- 
tom of  all  this.  At  all  events,  we  have  a  clear  case  against 


TIGHE  A    VOHRS  SWEETHEART.  335 

him  : — he  obtained  the  horse  on  false  pretenses,  and,  if  it  is 
the  same  animal  that  he  entered  for  the  race,  he  entered  him 
without  any  right  to  do  so  ;  and  now  it  looks  as  if  he  had 
stolen  him.  I'll  get  out  a  warrant  for  his  arrest  immediately." 

"And  the  horse  ?"  broke  in  Maloney,  trembling  ;  "  will  the 
warrant  recover  him  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure  ;  if  we  find  Tighe,  the  horse  I  think'll  not  be 
far  off  ;  but  I'll  off  to  Canty  now,  and  find  out  why  he  didn't 
go  down  to  Dhrommacohol  as  he  promised." 

"  And  me  ?  "  whined  the  miser  ;  "  how  long  must  I  stay 
here  ?  " 

"  Be  still,  yoi:  old  fool  !  you'll  be  out  to-morrow."  And 
Carter  hastily  departed  to  procure  a  warrant  for  Tim  Car- 
mody's  arrest,  and,  immediately  after,  to  seek  Canty. 

Canty,  not  altogether  convinced  that  he  was  not  the  victim 
of  a  trick  originated  by  Carter,  met  the  latter  somewhat 
haughtily,  and  seemed  inclined  to  maintain  his  proud  and 
moody  reserve  throughout  the  interview.  Carter  explained 
and  protested,  and  swore  that  he  was  as  innocent  of  any  part 
in  the  transaction,  and  as  deeply  injured,  as  those  of  the 
duped  party,  and  then  he  retaliated  by  denouncing,  in  no  easy 
terms,  Canty's  faithless  omission  to  see  the  horse  prior  to  the 
race  ;  upon  which  followed  from  the  sporting  man,  in  graphic 
and  violently  indignant  language,  an  account  of  the  message 
that  was  sent  to  him  by  Maloney,  the  messenger  being  de- 
scribed by  Canty  as  "a  little  old  yellow  fool,"  and  a  descrip- 
tion of  his  visit  to  Dhrommacohol,  with  enlarged  details  of  the 
reception  that  was  accorded  him  by  the  people  of  that  mem- 
orable village.  Carter  was  shrewd  enough  to  detect  in  al] 
that  further  evidence  of  Tighe  a  Vohr's  work,  and  it  made 
him  more  madly  eager  for  the  arrest  of  Tighe.  Venting  his 
rage  in  loud,  deep  oaths,  he  left  Canty's  presence,  the  latter 
at  last  satisfied  that  Carter  had  been  as  badly  tricked  as  any 
one  else. 

Tighe,  arrayed  in  some  old-fashioned  garments  of  Corny 
O'Toole's,  the  said  garments  being  much  too  wide  and  too 


,3$  CARROLL  VDONOGHU& 

•hort  for  their  present  wearer,  presented  a  more  odd  and 
droll-looking  figure  than  he  had  been  wont  to  do  in  his  own 
old  costume  before  he  exchanged  the  latter  for  a  valet's  out- 
fit. He  was  listening  with  every  evidence  of  delight  to 
Corny's  animated  description  of  the  fight  on  the  grounds  and 
the  arrest  of  so  many  of  the  parties,  but  when  Corny  ceased 
Tighe  became  suddenly  despondent. 

"  They'll  make  out  a  clear  case  agin  me,"  he  said,  "  an; 
they'll  put  me  in  jail :  an'  begorra  that  won't  suit  at  all — to  be 
losin'  me  toime  in  prison  whin  the  masther's  thrial  is  so  near 
comin'  off."  He  bowed  his  curly  head  on  his  hand  for  a  mo- 
ment Corny,  in  deep  sympathy,  but  unable  to  afford  any  con- 
solation in  the  face  of  what  he  felt  to  be  the  truth,  was  silent  ; 
suddenly  Tighe  looked  up  :  "  Corny,  jist  write  a  bit  o'  a  note 
to  Carther  in  my  name  ;  tell  him  I'd  loike  to  see  him  a  few 
minits  on  business  that's  o'  life  an'  death  importhance,  an' 
I'll  run  down  wid  it  to  Hoolahan's  ;  I  think  I'll  foind  him 
there.' 

"  Sure  that'll  be  putting  your  head  in  the  trap  at  once," 
said  Corny ;  "  if  you  trust  yourself  out  of  here  before  night- 
fall, you'll  not  stand  much  chance  of  an  escape  from  the 
peelers." 

"  I  have  an  idea,  Corny,  an'  it's  that  idea  that's  dhrivin'  me 
to  what  I'll  do  ;  wid  the  help  o'  God,  mebbe  it'll  come  out  all 
roight,  but,  for  fear  it  shouldn't,  do  you  kape  Shaun  here  for  a 
while." 

At  the  mention  of  his  name  the  dog  roused  from  his  sleepy 
attitude  near  Tighe,  shook  himself,  and  drawing  closer  to  his 
master,  looked  very  expressively  into  the  latter's  face.  Tighe 
returned  the  look  with  one  of  admiring  affection. 

M  Faith,  it's  supernatural  sinse  you  have,  Shaun,  to  be  un- 
dhersthandin'  ivery  word  I  say  !  look  at  that  now,  Corny, 
the  way  he  tuk  it  the  minit  I  said  his  name  !  They  say 
animiles  have  no  brains,  but  the  divil  as  much  intilligince 
among  some  o'  the  two-legged  animiles  that  have  the  impi- 
dince  to  be  christenin'  thimsel's  min."  An  assertion  witk 


T1QRE  A    VOHR'S  8WEETHEAST.  ,37 

which  Mr.  O'Toole  fully  agreed,  and  to  which  he  certified  by 
patting  the  dog  very  affectionately.  "  Write  the  note,  Corny," 
urged  Tighe  ;  "  it  moight  be  as  well  for  me  to  have  it,  in  case 
I  can't  git  seein'  Carther  at  once.  Niver  moind  bein'  particler, H 
— as  he  saw  Corny  making  the  same  elaborate  preparations  as 
he  would  for  the  inditing  of  a  more  important  epistle  ;  "You'd 
be  only  wastin'  yer  book  larnin'  an'  big  words  on  the  loike  o' 
him — he's  not  worthy  o'  thim,  Corny." 

But  Mr.  O'Toole  would  not  permit  his  literary  reputation 
to  suffer,  even  in  so  trifling  an  effusion  as  a  brief  note,  and  he 
wrote  as  follows : 

"  MR.  CARTER  : 

I  would  like  the  privilege  of  your  personal  and 
individual  presence  for  a  few  minutes  ;  I  have  a  communica- 
tion of  business  to  make  to  your  private  ear  which  is  of  the 
most  valuable  and  highly  important  consequence  and  neces- 
sity. 

TIGHE  A  VOHR." 

"You  gev  him  too  many  foine  words,"  said  Tighe,  turn- 
ing the  note  between  his  fingers  with  evident  dissatisfaction  ; 
then  catching  sight  of  Corny's  disappointed  look, — for  there 
was  nothing  which  so  touched  the  little  man's  feelings  as  dis- 
paraging criticisms  of  his  literary  efforts — he  artfully  added  : 
"  I  was  forgittin',  Corny — didn't  me  mother  once  tell  me  as 
how  it  was  onpossible  for  you  to  write  anything  else  but  foine 
big  words,  be  rayson  o'  the  great  sthore  o'  larnin'  you  got  in  yer 
youth  ! " 

Mr.  O'Toole  was  beaming  again,  and  explaining  to  Tighe 
the  mysterious  and  wonderful  power  which  a  big  word  had  of 
placing  the  writer  in  a  very  important  and  exalted  position  be- 
fore ignorant  folk 

"  Yis,  but  ould  Carther  knows  well  that  I  niver  got  beyant 
pot-hooks — an'  thim  same  wouldn't  be  in  me  head  now,  only 
the  masther  dhruv  thim  in  wid  a  shtick  that  he  broke  over 
me  knuckles.  How  an'  iver,  I'll  thry  me  luck  ;  so  good-by, 
Corny,  an*  take  good  care  o'  Shaun." 


•33 


CARROLL  VDONOGHUR 


The  dog,  fully  comprehending  the  situation,  stood  with 
drooped  head,  and  tail  mournfully  between  his  legs. 

"  Is  it  to  Hoolahan's  you'll  go  now,"  questioned  Corny. 

"  Sthraight,  Corny  ;  I'll  walk  there  as  bouldly  as  if  I  didn^t 
fale  in  me  bones  that  there  was  a  have  us  corpus,  or  some  other 
law  thrickery,  backed  up  mebbe  be  a  rigimint  o'  the  loife- 
guards,  afther  me.  I'll  ax  for  Mr.  Carther,  an'  thin'  if  he's 
there,  I'll  sind  him  this  bit  o'  a  note,  an'  I'll  wait  for  his  an- 
swer ;  you  see  I  wouldn't  loike  to  face  him  first  widout  batin' 
him  loike — dhrawin'  him  out,  as  we  do  whin  we're  anglin'  for 
the  unsuspectin'  little  fishes — an'  I  think  the  contints,  which 
to  me  mother's  moind  would  do  you  credit,  Corny,  will  be 
jist  the  bait  for  Mr.  Carther ;  he's  very  shrewd,  an*  he's  very 
cunnin',  this  same  ould  Carther,  but  I  carcumvinted  him  afore, 
an'  I  think  I'll  carcumvint  him  agin.  Good-by." 

He  was  off,  whistling  as  he  went  lightly  down  the  stair,  and 
Shaun,  mournfully  resigned  to  circumstances  which  behaved 
so  cruelly  to  him,  slunk  to  a  corner,  whence  all  Corny 
O'Toole's  enticements  could  not  allure  him. 

Tighe's  fears  of  some  action  of  the  law  being  issued  against 
him  were  fully  confirmed  ;  within  five  paces  of  Hoolahan's 
spacious  public  house  the  strong  hand  of  an  officer  was  laid 
upon  his  shoulder,  accompanied  by  the  words  :  "  You  are  my 
man !  " 

"  How  do  you  know  I  am  ? "  returned  Tighe,  facing  the 
policeman  with  the  utmost  coolness,  and  assuming  his  most 
stupid  expression. 

"  Come,  now,  none  o1  that !  "  and  there  was  a  firmer  grip 
of  Tighe's  shoulder  ;  "  you  are  Timothy  Carmody,  otherwise 
known  as  Tighe  a  Vohr."  The  policeman  was  a  sharp  fellow, 
and  he  knew  his  business  ;  he  was  neither  to  be  bullied  nor 
cajoled  from  his  purpose.  "  I  have  a  warrant  here  for  your 
arrest,  and  I've  been  watching  for  you  all  day  ;  yes,  you  an- 
iwer  to  this  description," — diving  one  hand  into  his  pocket 
and  bringing  forth  a  folded  paper,  while  with  the  other  hand 
be  ttill  held  Tighe. 


TIQHE  A    VOHR8  SWEETHEART.  33, 

u  A  description  o'  me  ! "  echoed  Tighe,  in  well-feigned 
stupid  astonishment ;  "  is  it  in  airnest  ye  are  ?  " — while  the 
officer  opened  the  paper.  "  Read  it  aloud,  avick  ;  I  nivei 
heerd  mesel'  descroibed  afore,  an*  I'm  curious  to  know 
whether  they  tould  all  about  me  good  looks.  Now  do  you 
know  there  was  Mrs.  Drumgolland  that  lived  beyant  Murrana- 
kilty,  as  foine  a  woman  as  iver  shtepped  into  two  shoes,  bar- 
rin'  she  was  a  thrifle  above  the  weight " 

"  Hold  your  prate,"  interrupted  the  policeman,  "  and  come 
along  ! " 

"  Aisy,  man,  aisy,  an'  don't  be  shakin'  me  out  o*  me  clothes," 
— as  the  officer  endeavored  to  thrust  Tighe  forward;  "jist 
wait  a  bit,  till  I  tell  you  the  sthory.  You  won't  wait  ? — well, 
thin,  you're  losin'  a  dale  o'  divarsion  ;  but  anyhow,  shtifle 
yer  impatience  till  I  make  mesel'  persintable  afther  the  maulin 
you  gev  me." 

And  Tighe,  whose  object  was  to  delay  the  policeman  until 
he  could  gather  a  crowd,  among  whom  might  be  some  of  that 
class  whose  impulsive  daring  is  as  ready  to  attempt  a  rescue 
of  one  who  appeals  to  their  sympathies  as  to  defend  them- 
selves, began  a  series  of  maneuvers  about  his  odd  costume, — 
now  stopping  to  brush  the  dust  from  his  shoes,  and  causing 
the  angry  officer  to  stoop  also,  for  the  latter  would  not  relin- 
quish his  hold  for  an  instant ;  then  straightening  himself  with 
a  sudden  jerk  which  sent  his  head  into  no  pleasant  collision  with 
the  face  of  his  captor,  and  increased  not  a  little  the  latter's 
growing  indignation,  and  all  the  time  talking  loudly  and  ludi- 
crously about  Mrs.  Drumgolland  of  Murranakilty.  His  scheme 
succeeded  perfectly  ;  a  crowd  was  speedily  gathering,  much  to 
the  officer's  anger  and  disgust.  The  latter  would  stand  it  no 
longer  ;  he  drew  out  his  baton  to  compel  Tighe  to  move  on. 
Tighe  clung  to  the  railing  which  ornamented  the  entrance  of 
Hoolahan's  public  house,  bawling  at  the  top  of  his  voice  and 
in  most  piteous  accents  :  "  Will  you  let  me  be  murdhered 
b'ys,  afore  yer  eyes — an'  I  the  wrong  man  !  oh,  he's  killin'  me 
intoirely  1 "  as  the  policeman,  in  a  rage  rendered  ungovern* 


,4o  CARROLL 

able  by  the  pushing  and  swaying  to  which  he  was  subjected 
by  the  crowd,  struck  Tighe  a  Vohr,  but  without  even  touch- 
ing him,  for  Tighe  had  a  peculiar  and  very  successful  way  of 
his  own  of  eluding  blows,  no  matter  how  well  directed.  The 
officer  rattled  for  help ;  but  before  it  arrived  the  crowd  had 
forced  Tighe  from  his  grasp  and  covered  his  retreat  into 
Hoolahan's,  making  it  appear,  however,  as  if  he  had  escaped 
round  the  corner  of  an  adjoining  street ;  in  that  direction, 
when  the  aid  arrived  for  which  the  policeman  had  signalled, 
all  the  officers  hastened. 

Mr.  Andrew  Hoolahan,  the  good-natured  proprietor  of  the 
public  house  into  which  Tighe  had  been  hurried,  had  been  a 
witness  of  the  scene  from  the  first,  and  his  sympathies,  which 
it  was  no  difficult  task  to  awaken,  were  all  in  favor  of  Tighe, 
whose  droll  figure  and  still  droller  badinage  of  the  officer  had 
afforded  him  more  than  one  hearty  laugh. 

"  But  they'll  more  than  likely  come  back  and  search  this 
place  too,  when  they  find  they  are  unsuccessful  beyond,"  he 
said  to  Tighe,  who  stood  within  one  of  the  small  rooms  that 
opened  from  the  main  apartment,  a  ludicrous  picture  of 
wonder  and  dismay. 

"I  wouldn't  moind  that,"  answered  Tighe,  "purvidin*  I 
could  see  Mr.  Carther  first.  I  have  a  note  here  for  him,  an' 
it  tells  him  there's  loife  an'  death  depindin'  on  me  seein'  him." 

"  Mr.  Carter  is  not  here  now,  but  I  know  where  he  is,  and 
I  can  send  your  note  to  him.  Let  me  have  it," — and  the  easy, 
good-natured  Hoolahan  extended  his  hand. 

The  officers  were  returning — they  were  at  the  very  door, 
loud  and  angry  parley  sounding,  as  they  seemed  to  encounter 
some  opposition. 

"  Away  with  him  to  the  kitchen,"  some  one  suggested,  allud- 
ing to  Tighe,  "  and  the  wimin  folks  there'll  contrive  to  hide 
him."  Tighe  was  hurried  down  by  a  back  stair  ;  the  next 
instant  he  heard  the  tramp  of  the  officers  in  the  room  he  had 
left 

The  "  wimin  folks "  in  the  culinary  department  of  M* 


TIGHE  A    VOHR8  SWEETHEART.  24, 

Hoolahan's  establishment  fully  sustained  the  reputation  which 
had  been  given  them,  and  Tighe's  own  artful  tongue,  as  he 
told  a  most  cunning  story  of  touching  distress,  made  them 
eager  to  save  him.  In  a  few  moments  he  was  arrayed  in 
female  dress,  with  his  brown  curls  pushed  out  of  sight  under 
a  white  muslin  cap,  and  he  was  set  to  work  beside  one  of  the 
scullery-maids,  whom  in  an  instant  he  had  excited  to  fits  of 
laughter  by  his  droll  and  absurd  remarks. 

The  search,  all  the  more  vigorously  prosecuted  that  there 
seemed  to  be  a  treasonable  attempt  on  the  part  of  the  people 
to  defraud  the  law,  reached  the  kitchen  ;  but  there  was 
nothing  in  the  scullery-maid,  who  stood,  dish  in  hand,  viewing 
with  open  mouth  and  great,  staring  eyes  the  whole  perform- 
ance, to  excite  any  suspicion,  and  disappointed  and  discom- 
fited, the  officers  were  forced  to  leave,  placing,  however,  a 
close  watch  upon  the  house. 

"  Begorra,  we  managed  that  beautifully  ; "  said  Tighe  to  the 
laughing  women,  when  the  policemen  had  retired  ;  "  an'  now, 
if  you've  no  objictions,  I'll  maintain  me  prisint  disguise  till 
Mr.  Carther  comes.  I  have  sthrong  suspicions  that  whin  I 
whisper  a  few  words  in  his  ear  he'll  put  a  dacint  ind  to  the 
whole  thing."  And  Tighe  washed  dishes,  and  peeled  vegeta- 
bles, and  turned  his  hand  to  the  divers  employments  of  th« 
kitchen  with  such  wonderful  dexterity,  at  the  same  time  con- 
vulsing his  companions  with  laughter  by  the  ridiculous  stories 
which  he  told  without  ceasing,  that  one  and  all  expressed  un- 
feigned regret  at  being  obliged  to  lose  his  company,  when 
word  was  at  length  brought  that  Mr.  Carter  was  up-stairs,  and 
awaiting  the  person  who  wanted  to  see  him.  "  I'll  see  him 
the  way  I  am,"  said  Tighe,  "  to  divart  suspicion  ;  for  mebbe 
it's  a  couple  o'  palers  he  has  at  his  elbow  to  arrist  me,  since 
they  couldn't  foind  me  a  while  ago."  And  he  departed  in  his 
feminine  costume,  his  awkwardness  in  managing  the  skirts  the 
cause  of  no  little  laughter,  while  he  was  at  the  same  time  fol- 
lowed by  the  good  wishes  of  those  of  whom,  during  even  his 
short  stay  among  them,  he  had,  by  that  rare  winning  powei 
•o  natural  to  him,  made  warm  and  earnest  friends. 


CARROLL  VDONOQHUK 

Morty  Carter  was  in  a  fit  of  ungovernable  rage ;  he  had 
heard  the  circumstances  of  Tighe's  arrest  and  escape,  the  evi- 
dence of  which  was  before  him  in  the  guard  placed  about  the 
house,  and  he  was  maddened  to  think  that  Tighe  had  again 
overreached  him,  as  well  as  amazed  at  Tighe's  impudence  in 
sending  him  a  written  message,  the  bearer  of  which  said  that 
die  sender  of  the  note  was  waiting  at  Hoolahan's.  "  You're 
a  parcel  of  fools  !  "  he  said  to  the  policemen  ;  "  the  fellow's 
here  in  the  house — I  hold  this  note  from  him."  And  then  he 
sought  leisurely,  amiable  Andy  Hoolahan. 

"  You  ask  me  more  than  I  can  tell  you,  Mr.  Carter,"  said 
Andy,  who  for  special  honest  reasons  of  his  own  was  not  over 
partial  to  Carter.  "  The  note  was  left  here  by  some  party  or 
other  to  be  given  to  you,  and  I  sent  it  to  you." 

"  But  the  party  who  left  it,  Mr.  Hoolahan — describe  him, 
sir,"  persisted  Carter. 

Mr.  Hoolahan  slightly  straightened  himself.  "  Mr.  Carter, 
I  believe  you  are  asked  in  that  note  to  meet  here  the  person 
that  wrote  it ;  I'll  send  word  that  you're  waiting  to  see  the 
party,  if  you'll  step  beyond  into  that  room,  please." 

That  was  the  utmost  Carter  could  gain,  and  inwardly  fum- 
ing and  swearing,  he  obeyed.  In  a  few  minutes  there  was  a 
very  timid,  gentle  tap  at  the  door,  and  to  Mr.  Carter's  loud 
and  not  over-pleasantly  spoken  "  Come  in  !  "  there  entered, 
not,  as  Carter  fully  expected  to  see,  Tighe  a  Vonr,  but  a  stout, 
good-looking,  rosy-cheeked  Irish  girl,  a  trifle  taller  than  the 
medium  height,  and  with  her  hands  hid  in  her  apron.  She 
kept  her  eyes  down  in  a  very  bashful  way,  and  spoke  as  if  she 
was  afraid  of  the  sound  of  her  own  voice,  at  the  same  time 
maneuvering  to  get  in  the  shadow  of  the  room : 

"  I'm  sint  by  Tighe  a  Vohr,"  she  began  in  a  voice  which, 
though  strongly  affected  by  the  brogue,  was  pitched  too  low 
and  in  too  fine  a  key  to  bear  an  accent  of  resemblance  to  Tim 
Carmody's  deep,  rich  tones. 

Mr.  Carter,  stupefied  with  surprise,  did  not  answer. 

"  I'm  his  swateheart,"  she  continued,  "  an'  I'm  aware  o'  the 


TIGHE  A    VOHRS  SWEETHEART.  243 

throuble  he's  in  ;  an'  I  am  aware,  too,  o'  another  thing  :  " — she 
took  a  step  forward — "  I'm  aware  o'  the  docymint  you  gev 
Captain  Dennier  an'  that  Captain  Crawford  took  on  to  Dublin 
to  Lord  Heathcote, — I'm  aware  o'  all  that." 

Carter  jumped  in  his  horrified  astonishment  ;  he  had 
thought  that  transaction  a  secret  between  himself  and  the 
authorities  to  whom  the  paper  had  been  delivered. 

The  speaker  continued  :  "  You  didn't  tell  that  to  Carroll 
O'Donoghue  whin  you  got  to  see  him  in  the  jail ;  you  didn't 
tell  it  to  the  boys  beyant  that  thrusted  you  so — that  wouldn't 
suit  yer  threacherous  purpose  ;  but  there'll  not  be  wantin' 
others  to  tell  thirn  all,  onless  you  withdhraw  this  charge  agin 
Tighe  a  Vohr,  an'  let  him  go  free  !  " 

"Who  are  you  that  know  so  much?"  demanded  Carter, 
thrown  completely  off  his  guard  by  his  angry  astonishment 
and  the  numerous  fears  which  suddenly  tormented  him.  To 
have  an  entire  distrust  of  him  spring  up  in  the  Fenian  circles, 
to  some  of  which  he  was  still  cordially  admitted  as  one  of 
their  stanch  supporters,  would  hinder  his  future  purposes  ; 
and  to  have  Carroll  O'Donoghue  told  of  his  last  treachery  in 
furnishing  such  a  document  to  the  government  might  undo 
all  that  he  had  effected  during  his  interview  with  the  prisoner. 
It  was  under  the  influence  of  such  fears  as  these  that  he 
turned  with  fierce  energy  to  demand  of  the  speaker  who  she 
was.  But  the  latter  had  drawn  back  again  abashed,  her  head 
down,  and  her  hands  concealed  by  her  apron. 

"  Plaze,  sir,  I  tould  you  afore  I  was  Tighe's  swateheart,  an' 
it's  for  his  sake  I'm  makin'  bould  now.  If  you'll  let  Tighe 
go  free,  I'll  ingage  that  ytr  saycrets'll  be  safe  enough,  an' 
ould  Maloney'll  get  his  horse  back ;  an'  be  the  rayson'  o' 
that  considheration,  mebbe  you  could  make  the  ould  sinner 
be  sathisfied  too,  and  not  do  anything  to  Tighe  for  takin' 
his  horse  the  way  he  did.  Will  you  do  all  this,  Mr.  Carther  ? " 

Carter  paced  the  room,  stopping  at  intervals  to  clasp  both  of 
his  hands  over  his  face  and  to  groan,  then  to  cast  a  long,  puz- 
xled  look  at  his  visitor  ;  but  he  could  make  nothing  of  the 


244  CARROLL  VDONOQHUR. 

apparent  bashful,  and  yet  determined,  young  woman.  "  How 
did  you  obtain  all  this  information  ?  "  he  asked  at  last,  stand- 
ing before  her. 

"  That's  nayther  here  nor  there,  Mr.  Carther  ;  mebbe  Tighe 
tould  it  to  me,  an'  mebbe  he  didn't ;  mebbe  me  own  obsarva- 
tion  found  out  a  great  dale  o'  it,  an'  mebbe  it  didn't.  But  do 
you  answer  me  quistion,  Mr.  Carther,  and  not  be  kapin'  me 
from  me  work.  They're  waitin'  for  me  in  the  kitchen." 

**  And  what  surety  can  you  give  me  that  my  secrets  will  be 
kept  ?  Women  are  not  noted  for  their  silence,  and  you  are  a 
woman,"  said  Carter. 

There  was  a  low  laugh  from  the  woman  in  question  ;  it 
startled  Mr.  Carter,  bringing  a  strangely  puzzled  look  into  his 
face — surely  he  had  heard  that  laugh  before ;  but  his  visitor 
was  saying  in  very  earnest  tones  :  "  You'll  have  to  take  me 
word  for  that,  Mr.  Carther,  or  me  oath,  whichiver  you  loike 
bist ;  for  I'll  be  so  grateful  to  you  for  relasin'  Tighe  that  I'd 
cut  me  tongue  out  afore  I'd  spake  a  word  to  hurt  you — an' 
Tiglie  bid  me  say  the  same  thing  to  you  :  he'll  not  revale  a 
word  if  you  relase  him." 

Again  Carter  paced  the  room.  Did  he  refuse  to  yield  to 
this  proposition,  the  gain  to  him  after  all  would  be  little  com- 
pared to  the  jeopardy  in  which  his  future  plans  might  be 
placed — he  would  have  the  darling  satisfaction  of  seeing  Tighe 
a  Vohr  punished,  and  of  proving  to  his  friends  of  the  course 
how  he  had  been  the  victim  of  a  cunning  trick  ;  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  Carroll  O'Donoghue  might  be  made  to  believe  him 
the  traitor  he  was,  and  he  might  be  ignominiously  expelled  the 
haunts  to  which  it  was  his  advantage  to  resort  His  prudence 
counseled  him  to  accept  the  terms  and  trust  to  the  promise 
which  was  offered.  The  pledge  to  restore  the  horse  to  Ma- 
loney  would,  he  felt,  satisfy  the  old  man,  and  prevent  him 
making  any  charge  against  Tighe  ;  and  to  his  friends  of  the 
course  he  could  pretend  to  turn  the  whole  into  a  good  joke, 
feigning  that  his  innate  good  nature  and  compassion  for 
Tight  «  Yohr  caused  him  rather  to  suffer  his  own  loss  than 


T1QHE  A    VOHRS  SWEEI HEART.  3^ 

prosecute  the  poor  fellow.  He  stopped  again  before  hii 
visitor.  "  I  would  like  to  see  Tighe  a  Vohr — to  treat  with 
himself." 

"  You  can't,  thin,  until  you've  agreed  to  all  I  ask  ;  for 
Tighe'll  not  come  nixt  nor  nigh  you  until  I  give  him,  in  yer 
han'writin',  a  pledge  to  withdhraw  this  charge  immadiately, 
an*  until  you  get  the  guard  that's  around  this  house  taken 
away  ,  then  Tighe  will  come  to  see  you." 

Without  replying,  Carter  went  into  an  adjoining  room,  and 
speedily  returned  with  three  or  four  lines  written  on  a  paper, 
which  he  proffered  to  his  visitor,  saying  at  the  same  time  :  "  I 
have  sent  up  to  the  police  barracks  to  have  the  guard  taken 
away  ;  and  now,  how  soon  shall  I  see  Tighe  ?  I  must  know 
when  Maloney  can  have  his  horse." 

"Wait  for  me  here,  an'  I'll  see  if  I  can  foind  him." 

She  departed  from  the  room,  trying  to  affect  a  true  mincing 
style  ;  but  there  was  something  so  awkward  and  constrained 
about  her  movements  that,  had  not  Carter  been  absorbed  in 
reflection,  with  his  hand  to  his  face,  he  must  have  thought  it 
all  very  strange.  To  Mr.  Hoolahan  she  immediately  went, 
proffering  the  paper  which  she  had  received  from  Carter. 
"  Read  that,  plaze,  Mr.  Hoolahan  ;  I'm  not  a  very  good 
hand  at  the  book  larnin',  an'  somehow  the  power  o'  undher- 
sthandin*  writin'  has  a  fashion  o'  goin'  out  o'  me  head  alto- 
gither." 

Hoolahan,  who  had  been  breaking  his  heart  laughing  from 
the  very  first  glimpse  he  had  caught  of  the  strange  female  a 
couple  of  hours  before  in  the  kitchen,  and  who  laughed 
heartier  now,  as  he  looked  at  the  quizzical  expression  on  the 
strange  creature's  face,  and  felt  that  a  very  clever  trick  was 
being  played  on  Mortimer  Carter,  took  the  paper  and  read  : 

"To  THE  SUB-INSPECTOR  OF  POLICE: 

I  hereby  withdraw  all  the 

charges  which  have  been  preferred  by  me  against  Timothy 
Carmody,  otherwise  known  as  Tighe  a  Vohr. 

MORTIMER  CARTER." 


246  CARROLL  VDONOGHUK 

The  strange  female  nodded  her  head  with  evident  satisfac- 
tion. "  Thank  you,  Mr.  Hoolahan  ;  an*  now,  mebbe  you'd 
be  able  to  inform  me  if  he  sint  to  have  the  guard  taken 
away." 

"  He  did  that,  for  I  sent  the  order  for  him." 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Hoolahan,  an*  I'll  not  forgit  the  favor 
you  done  me  this  day.  I'll  go  now,  an'  put  on  me  own  proper 
dhress,  for  these  wimen's  skirts  are  very  onhandy  to  manage." 

Having  arrived  in  the  kitchen,  he  gave  an  account  of  his 
success  which,  while  it  was  humorous,  and  seemed  to  be 
straightforward  and  truthful,  yet  afforded  his  listeners  no  clew 
to  the  true  facts  in  the  case,  further  than  that  it  was  his  play- 
ing a  trick  on  Carter  that  had  made  the  latter  procure  a  war- 
rant of  arrest,  and  now  it  was  the  playing  of  another  trick  on 
the  same  gentleman  which  had  effected  the  withdrawal  of  the 
warrant.  The  account  caused  successive  roars  of  laughter, 
and  as  the  women  assisted  Tighe  to  doff  the  feminine  gar- 
ments which  had  been  put  on  over  much  of  his  own  clothes, 
thus  giving  the  apparent  female  a  very  embompoint  look,  and 
taking  somewhat  from  her  height,  which  otherwise  might  have 
been  remarkable,  they  assured  him  of  their  regard  for  him, 
begging  him  to  be  a  frequent  visitor,  and  entreating  him  never 
to  want  for  a  meal's  victuals  while  they  were  to  the  fore  it. 
good-hearted  Andy  Hoolahan's  kitchen — neither  himself  nor 
any  friend  he  might  happen  to  have  with  him.  Tighe  ex- 
pressed himself  with  becoming  gratitude,  and  with  hearty 
pressures  of  the  hand,  which  became  a  most  significant 
squeeze  when  he  held  the  fingers  of  the  little  scullery-maid 
beside  whom  he  had  been  set  to  work,  he  departed  a  second 
time  to  Mr.  Mortimer  Carter. 

Having  given  the  same  timid,  gentle  knock  with  which  he 
had  signaled  for  entrance  when  he  personated  Tighe's  sweet- 
heart, and  having  entered  with  the  same  cast-down  eyes,  and 
bashful  air,  and  hiding  of  his  hands  with  a  handkerchief  in 
lieu  of  an  apron,  he  approached  Mr.  Carter.  A  sudden  light 
broke  on  the  latter/f  mind.  He  recognized  the  air,  the  gait ; 


T10HE  A    VOHR8  SWEETHEART.  ,47 

he  identified  them  with  those  of  his  previous  visitor,  and  in 
his  discomfited  astonishment  he  sprung  from  the  chair  into 
which  he  had  thrown  himself.  "  May  the  divil  fly  away  with 
me  if  it  wasn't  Tighe  a  Vohr  all  the  time  ! " 

"  The  same,  an'  no  liss,"  responded  Tighe  ;  "  an'  now 
there's  no  use  in  cryin'  over  spilt  milk  ;  bear  up  loike  a  mar, 
undher  the  difficulties  afore  you,  an'  listen  while  I  tell  you 
where  to  foind  ould  Maloney's  horse.  To-morrow  at  twelve 
o'clock  be  at  Dick  Courcy's  shebeen — you  know  where  that 
is  ;  you'll  mate  there  Arty  Moore,  Maloney's  groom  ;  you'd 
betther  tell  him  all  the  villainy  is  found  out,  but  that  we've 
been  pardoned  in  considheration  o"  restorin'  the  baste  imma- 
diately.  That's  all  now,  Mr.  Carther,  but,  moind  you,  if  you 
neglict  attindin'  to  this" — shaking  the  papers  he  held — "for 
this  is  only  writin'  for  it,  an'  I'm  still  loikely  to  be  arristed 
till  you  have  the  charge  properly  withdhrawn  ;  if,  I  say,  you 
should  be  guilty  o'  such  neglict  as  that,  an'  that  I  should  fale 
the  hand  o'  a  paler  on  me  shouldher  agin,  that  insthant  I'll 
make  up  me  moind  to  discover  you  an'  yer  doin's.  Good 
noight,  Mr.  Carther  ;  may  you  slape  aisy,  an*  have  consolin* 
dhrames  ;  an*  the  nixt  toime  don't  be  so  ready  to  throw  in  a 
woman's  face  that  she  can't  kape  a  saycret,  as  you  did  to- 
noight  to  Tighe  a  Vohr's  swateheart" 

He  departed,  leaving  baffled,  humbled,  raging  Carter  to 
vent  his  passion  in  long,  hasty  strides  and  violent  striking  of 
his  forehead  with  clinched  hands. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

A   STARTLING    DECLARATION. 

*  IT'S  little  you  have  to  do  when  you  can  sleep  till  this  hou» 
,ja  the  morning  !  " 

The  words,  somewhat  crossly  spoken,  came  from  Rick  of 
the  Hills,  who  was  standing  beside  Carter's  bed  in  the  private 
lodging  which  the  latter  occupied  whenever  he  sojourned  in 
Tralee.  Carter  started  up,  rubbing  his  eyes  and  looking  in  a 
bewildered  way  from  his  visitor  to  the  dull  daylight  which 
struggled  into  the  room. 

"  How  did  you  get  in  ;  and  what  time  is  it  ?  "  he  asked, 
when  he  seemed  to  have  recovered  all  his  waking  faculties. 

"  How  did  I  get  in  ?  faith,  easy  enough  ;  I  came  up  here 
this  morning  and  went  to  Hoolahan's,  where  you  told  me  to 
go  if  I  wanted  you  ;  but  you  hadn't  got  there  yet,  and  a  good- 
natured  man  at  the  counter  gave  me  the  street  and  the  num- 
ber of  your  lodgings  ;  so  I  came  here,  and  the  girl  below 
said  you  weren't  up  ;  but  she  showed  me  your  room,  and 
when  I  knocked  and  received  no  answer,  I  tried  the  door.  It 
was  open,  and  I  entered — that's  how  I  got  in  ;  and  as  to  the 
time,  it's  twenty  minutes  past  the  dinner  hour." 

Carter  started  and  looked  at  his  watch,  which  he  drew  from 
beneath  his  pillow.  It  was  true — that  was  the  hour ;  and  he 
sat  motionless,  looking  at  nothing  in  particular,  and  holding 
his  watch  in  a  vacant  way.  But  his  mind  was  painfully  re- 
verting to  all  the  events  of  the  previous  day  ;  it  was  due  to 
them  that  his  morning  nap  had  been  thus  extended  ;  for  in 
perplexity  and  agony  of  mind,  owing  to  his  fears  of  what 
Tighe  a  Vohr,  who  had  already  so  cleverly  outwitted  him, 
might  accomplish  in  the  future  to  hinder  his  purposes,  he  had 

(*4») 


A  STARTLING   DECLARATION.  ,49 

walked  the  floor  till  daylight  shone  through  his  uncurtained 
window,  and  then  he  threw  himself,  partially  dressed,  on  the 
bed  ;  he  had  forgotten  to  lock  his  door. 

"  How  long  are  you  going  to  stay  that  way  /  '  asked  Rick 
impatiently,  as  the  minutes  passed  and  Carter  gave  no  sign  of 
coming  out  of  his  gloomy  reverie.  "  I  came  here  after  you," 
continued  Rick,  "  to  have  you  decide  the  business  you  want 
me  to  do  at  once.  I  got  tired  waiting  for  you  to  come  back, 
and  I  got  more  tired  with  the  craving  want  of  my  heart  for 
Cathleen."  A  look  of  agony  came  into  his  pinched  and  hag- 
gard face ;  but  it  was  lost  upon  Carter,  who  shook  himself 
erect  and  began  to  finish  his  toilet,  answering  carelessly  : 

"  Sit  down,  Rick,  and  I'll  talk  to  you  as  soon  as  I'm  dressed 
and  the  breakfast  is  sent  np — we'll  have  it  here — so  that 
there'll  be  no  greedy  ears  to  take  in  what  we're  saying."  He 
rung  the  bell,  and  gave  an  order  for  what  sounded  to  his  hun- 
gry visitor  a  sumptuous  meal,  not  forgetting  to  include  a  bottle 
of  whisky. 

Over  the  meal,  and  after  the  imbibing  of  a  glass  of  the 
liquor,  Carter  seemed  to  recover  his  spirits.  He  was  particu- 
larly good  natured  to  his  guest,  pressing  him  to  eat,  and  fre- 
quently replenishing  his  glass.  At  length,  when  both  had 
done  ample  justice  to  the  repast,  and  both,  apparently  well 
satisfied,  leaned  back  in  their  chairs,  Carter  said  :  "  Well, 
Rick,  there  is  only  this  one  piece  of  work  between  you  and 
Cathleen.  If  you  succeed  in  it  she  shall  be  yours,  with  money 
and  prosperity  to  boot  But  there  must  be  no  flinching,  no 
maudlin  sentiment  about  the  matter — you  must  do  the  task 
clean  and  well." 

"  I'll  try  ;  " — the  response  was  given  with  a  determined  ef- 
fort to  make  it  calm  and  steady,  but  despite  all  the  voice 
shook,  and  the  tone  had  a  mournful,  touching  cadence.  He 
leaned  across  to  Carter,  a  slight  flush,  caused  by  his  rising 
emotion,  dyeing  his  worn  cheeks,  and  his  eyes  wearing  a  look 
from  which  Carter  involuntarily  shrunk.  "  I  didn't  think  I 
could  do  it  when  you  asked  me — it  went  against  my  soul ; 


,so  CARROLL 

but  Cathleen  rose  afore  me — Cathleen  as  she  used  to  be  when 
her  little  arms  were  round  my  neck,  and  her  eyes  looking  into 
mine  ;  oh,  God  !  I  couldn't  stand  it "  He  stopped  sud- 
denly, and  dropping  his  head  on  the  table,  sobbed  like  a 
child. 

Carter  looked  on  unmoved. 

The  burst  ceased,  and  in  a  few  moments  Rick  resumed  : 
"  My  heart  grew  so  wild  with  longing  for  her  that  I  felt  I 
could  go  to  hell  to  see  her  ;  and  since  no  other  way  will  touch 
your  stony  heart,  Carter,  I'm  here  to-day  to  engage  again  in 
your  dirty  work,  and  to  sell  myself  body  and  soul  to  the  devil 
for  the  sake  of  Cathleen.  But  how  do  I  know  " — he  seemed 
to  be  seized  by  a  sudden  and  horrible  fear,  for  he  sprung 
from  his  chair  and  stood  glowering  at  Carter, — "  that  you'll 
not  deceive  me  ?  how  do  I  know  that  when  I've  served  your 
purpose  you  won't  give  me  the  slip  without  keeping  your 
promise  ?  how  do  I  know  that  Cathleen  is  living  at  all,  or  how 
do  I  know,  oh  God  !  how  do  I  know  " — his  form  shook  like 
an  aspen,  and  his  voice  became  husky, — "  but  that  when  I'd 
find  her  it'd  only  be  to  hang  my  head  for  her  shame  and  for 
mine  ?" 

Carter  also  rose.  "  I  have  sworn  solemnly  to  you  before 
that  your  fears  were  all  false,  and  I'll  give  you  the  same  pledge 
again." 

Rick  laughed  scornfully.  "  How  much  are  your  oaths 
worth  to  me,  Carter  ?  you'd  take  as  many  false  ones  as  would 
make  a  grave  mound  over  a  coffin  ! " 

Carter  bit  his  lip  to  stifle  his  anger,  resuming  haughtily  : 
"  How  much  will  you  gain  if  you  refuse  to  serve  me  ?  To 
whom  can  you  apply  to  find  Cathleen  for  you,  and  who  can 
force  me  into  an  acknowledgement  that  I  know  of  her  where- 
abouts ?  I  would  laugh  at  the  story,  and  pronounce  it  a  mere 
fabrication  of  your  own  ;  and  you  know  that  past  circum- 
stances would  bear  me  out  in  my  statement." 

Rick,  as  if  he  was  overcome  by  the  truth  of  what  he  heard 
groaned  and  hid  his  face  with  his  hands. 


A  STARTLING  DECLARATION. 


25* 


Carter  continued,  placing  at  the  same  moment  a  pound- 
note  before  his  guest  :  "  No,  Rick,  it's  better  for  your  own 
interests  every  way  to  trust  me  and  to  serve  me.  This  affair, 
which  will  be  one  of  my  last  strokes,  will  end  the  business, 
and  I  again  swear  to  you  that  you  shall  see  Cathleen,  and  see 
her  well  and  happy.  Come,  drink  to  your  future  joy."  He 
filled  the  glass  to  overflowing,  and  proffered  it  to  his  visitor. 

That  last  struggling  remnant  of  good  in  the  poor  wretch's 
nature  urged  him  to  repel  the  temptation  ;  he  had  already 
sufficient  liquor  within  him,  and  more  would,  he  knew,  make 
him  the  degraded  and  unresisting  tool  of  Carter's  most  foul 
machinations  ;  but  the  bait  was  too  alluring  ;  he  drew  back 
once  in  angry  refusal,  but  the  next  instant  he  seized  the  glass 
and  quaffed  its  contents. 

Carter  was  satisfied,  and  he  resumed  his  seat  ;  Rick  dropped 

heavily  into  his.  "  How  soon  will  you "  there  was  a  sudden 

pause  on  the  part  of  Carter,  as  if  he  were  undecided  how  to 
frame  his  question. 

Rick  looked  up.  "  You  mean  to  ask,  I  suppose,  how  soon 
I'll  be  ready  to  work  up  this  last  foul  plot  of  yours  ?  " 

Carter  nodded. 

"  Now — at  once  !  "  He  arose  from  his  chair,  and  pocket- 
ing the  money  which  had  been  placed  before  him,  began  but- 
toning his  ragged  coat  and  planting  firmly  on  his  head  a  dirty, 
well-worn  hat.  At  the  door,  with  his  hand  on  the  knob,  he 
turned  to  say :  "  Mind  you,  Carter,  this  is  the  last  devil's 
work  I'll  do  for  you  ;  and  if,  when  it's  done,  you  fail  in  your 
promise  to  me,  I'll  wash  my  hands  in  your  blood  ;  aye,  if  I 
have  to  come  out  of  my  grave  to  murder  you  ! "  There  was 
a  wild,  desperate  look  in  the  large  black  eyes  that  made  Car- 
ter draw  a  relieved  breath  when  the  door  was  fairly  shut  be- 
hind his  visitor. 

A  dull,  constant  rain  poured  abroad,  but  beyond  a  slight 
shiver,  and  a  closer  fastening  of  his  old  coat  about  his  person, 
Rick  paid  little  heed  to  the  storm.  Indeed,  it  would  seem 
from  the  glitter  in  his  eyes,  and  the  unwonted  flush  still  on 


,j,  CARROLL  aDOKOamiSL 

his  pinched  cheeks,  that  some  emotion  within  made  him  in- 
sensible to  the  uncomfortable  atmosphere  without  He  could 
take  the  car  now  to  his  destination,  thanks  to  Carter's  recent 
gift,  and  not  be  compelled  to  make  the  journey,  as  he  had 
done  when  coming  up  to  Tralee,  by  begging  lifts  on  passing 
vehicles,  and  failing  that,  by  trudging  till  his  feet  were  sore 
and  blistered.  The  effect  of  his  weary  tramp  was  visible  now 
in  his  partially  limping  gait,  and  some  kind-hearted  people 
looked  after  the  poor  wretch  as  if  they  would  have  gladly 
doled  him  an  alms,  but  he  asked  none.  It  was  nightfall 
when  he  reached  Dhrommacohol,  and  the  storm,  which  had 
also  raged  there,  had  abated.  The  stars  were  beginning  to 
twinkle  in  the  dull  sky,  and  the  air  had  all  that  refreshing  in- 
fluence upon  the  spirit  which  is  sometimes  so  cheeringly  felt 
after  a  storm.  Something  of  such  a  feeling  stole  on  the  mis- 
erable man,  who,  walking  slowly  by  the  country  lanes,  often 
cast  his  eyes  up  to  the  now  star-studded  vault  above  him.  A 
strange  fascination  impelled  his  glance  in  that  direction, 
while  the  scent  of  the  wild  field-flowers  came  to  him,  and  the 
gentle  waving  of  the  trees  in  the  soft  evening  wind  seemed  to 
salute  him — all  conspiring  to  harrow  his  soul  with  memories 
at  once  sweet  and  heart-breaking.  The  big  tears  rolled  from 
his  eyes,  but  were  wildly  dashed  away.  "  What  is  unmanning 
me  ?  "  he  said  ;  "  why  do  I  give  way  now,  when  I  know  I  must 
do  it  ? "  he  had  involuntarily  paused,  and  his  eyes  were  again 
fixed  on  the  sky.  "  Why  do  I  look  there  ?  "  he  resumed  ; 
"  there,  where  /  shall  never  be  !  and  oh,  if  Cathleen  is  there, 
and  if  she's  looking  at  me — may  be,  wretched  sinner  as  I  am, 
she'd  give  me  one  pitying  look  ! "  He  threw  himself  on  his  knees 
by  the  country  hedge.  "  Blessed  mother  of  God,  you  that  have 
a  tender  heart  for  the  poor  and  the  distressed — pray  for  me  !  " 
He  started  up  wildly  :  "  What  am  I  doing — me  praying  ! — 
it'll  make  the  devils  in  hell  laugh  to  hear  the  like  of  me  pray- 
ing ! "  He  strove  to  laugh  himself — to  banish  the  strange, 
softening  influences  which  were  at  work  about  him ;  but 
his  mirth  sounded  hollow  and  discordant  He  walked  on 


A  STARTLING  DECLARATION.  353 

quickly   to    Father  Meagher's   residence,   shuddering   as  he 
approached  the  little  chapel,  and  hurrying  by  it. 

Moira,  in  the  kitchen  lightening  her  evening  work  by 
pleasant  thoughts  of  Tighe  a  Vohr,  opened  to  Rick's  knock. 
"  Why,  Rick  !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  where  do  you  come  from  ? 
it's  so  long  since  you've  been  here  !  " 

"  I  know  it,"  he  responded  ;  "  and  now  as  I  am  here,  and 
tired  and  hungry  in  the  bargain,  will  you  give  me  a  meal  ?  " 

"To  be  sure,  and  welcome  !  just  sit  down  before  the  fire, 
— the  rain  has  made  it  so  chilly — and  I'll  have  a  supper  for 
you  in  no  time."  And  the  kind-hearted  girl  cheerfully 
bustled  about  the  preparations. 

"  Don't  be  troubling  yourself 
crust  and  a  cup  of  tea  will  do  ! " 

But  Moira,  in  the  goodness  of  her  heart,  would  make  the 
poor  fellow,  whose  plight  was  well  calculated  to  win  sympathy, 
as  comfortable  as  she  could,  and  she  set  before  him  the  best 
that  the  priest's  simple  larder  afforded. 

Rick  ate,  asking  careless  questions  the  while  about  the 
household,  ascertaining,  to  his  private  satisfaction,  that  Nora 
McCarthy  had  gone  alone  some  distance  to  see  a  dying  crea- 
ture, and  that  she  would  probably  not  return  very  soon.  By 
further  adroit  questions  he  won  from  simple  Moira  the  precise 
location  of  the  house  to  which  Nora  had  gone  on  her  charit- 
able errand  ;  and  when  he  had  finished  his  meal,  and  thanked 
his  kind  little  hostess,  he  set  out  in  the  direction  which  he 
knew  Nora  must  take  on  her  return. 

The  moon  was  shining,  and  everything  on  the  lonely  coun- 
try road  could  be  seen  as  plainly  as  in  the  noonday  sun.  Not 
a  soul  crossed  Rick's  path  until  he  was  within  sight  of  the 
house  into  which  Nora  had  gone.  It  was  one  of  the  very 
humble  cabins  of  the  Irish  poor,  and  its  whole  exterior  pro- 
claimed the  want  which  might  be  within.  He  gazed-  at  it  with 
bitter  feeling  ;  too  well  he  knew  the  poverty  which  existed  in 
fuch  places,  and  his  bosom  swelled  as  he  thought  of  that  gov- 
ernment to  whose  oppression  was  due  such  want  and  woe ; 


*54 


CARROLL  VDONOQBUR 


but  in  the  same  instant  his  cheeks  tingled  with  the  flush  of 
self -accusation  and  shame,  for  was  not  he  the  traitor  who  had 
betrayed  to  the  authorities  the  hiding-place  of  Carroll  O'Don- 
oghue  ?  He  turned  away  as  if  in  his  bitterness  he  would  de- 
part from  himself ;  but  there  was  the  sound  of  a  light  step  on 
the  road,  and  he  turned  back.  It  was  Nora  McCarthy  ;  well 
he  knew  the  agile  grace  of  that  slight  form,  and  he  continued 
to  watch  her  as  she  approached  him.  The  moonlight  reveal- 
ed her  fully ;  a  dark  cloak  enveloping  her  person,  its  hood 
covering  her  head,  and  the  little  basket  in  which  she  had  car- 
ried some  nourishment  for  the  sick  creature  pending  from  her 
hand.  On  she  came,  fearless  and  apparently  thoughtful,  and 
only  slightly  starting  when  Rick  sprung  before  her  in  the  road. 
"  I  would  speak  to  you,  Miss  McCarthy — I  have  been  watch- 
ing for  you." 

"  Certainly,  Rick  ;  anything  I  can  do  for  you  ?  do  not  hes- 
itate to  tell  me." 

"  Do  you  mind  the  last  time  we  met,  when  you  asked  me  if 
I  was  in  trouble,  and  I  told  you  the  secret  of  my  heart — the 
sorrowful  secret  that's  been  eating  my  life  away  for  many  a 
year  ? "  his  voice  was  husky  and  trembling. 

"  I  do,  Rick,  I  remember  it  all,"  she  hastened  to  answer  ; 
"  and  I  have  prayed  for  you  fervently  every  day  since." 

He  bent  his  head  forward,  and  whispered,  as  if  his  growing 
huskiness  prevented  his  speaking  aloud  :  "  Do  you  mind  the 
advice  you  gave  me  then  ;  and  would  you  give  me  the  same 
now  ?  " 

"  The  same,  Rick — the  very  same  ;  it  would  be  the  worst 
of  sins  to  change  it." 

"  But  listen  once  more," — still  in  a  trembling  whisper  ;  "it 
may  break  my  child's  heart  to  know  what  she  does'nt  at  pres- 
ent guess  ; — think,  Miss  McCarthy — if  it  was  your  own  case, 
what  would  you  do  ?  "  he  raised  his  clasped  hands  to  her  in 
wild  entreaty. 

All  her  soul  spoke  in  her  beautiful  eyes  as  she  answered, 
with  thrilling  earnestness  :  "  Were  it  my  case,  I  should  know 


A  STARTLING  DECLARATION.  ,55 

&.»  pause  between  this  knowledge  coming  to  me  and  my  ac« 
knowledgment  of  my  father.  No  wealth,  no  home,  no  friends 
should  stand  between  us  ;  were  he  an  outcast  from  mankind 
he  would  be  still  my  father,  and  1,  thinking  alone  of  the  love 
which  had  never  lost  sight  of  me  during  all  his  desolate,  wan- 
dering years,  would  bound  to  him,  and  repay  him  with  burn- 
ing affection  !  " 

"  Nora  McCarthy,  the  case  is  your  own — you  are  my  child, 
and  I  am  your  father  !  "  He  stood  there  white  and  trembling, 
— the  blood  had  flown  even  from  his  lips — with  outstretched 
arms  and  humid  eyes. 

Her  father  I  she  heard  like  one  in  a  dream  ;  it  was  so  sud- 
den, so  unexpected,  so  dreadful,  that  she  could  not  compre- 
hend it ;  and  she  stood  there  so  motionless  that  the  gentle 
swell  and  fall  of  her  bosom  as  she  breathed  could  be  plainly 
discerned,  while  her  face  was  as  white  as  Rick's  own.  Her 
eyes  were  fixed  with  a  wild,  frightened  look  upon  his  face. 

"  I  should  not  have  told  you,"  he  said  mournfully ;  "  the 
advice  you  gave  me  for  another  is  too  hard  for  yourself  to 
follow  ! "  He  let  his  hands  drop  and  was  turning  away. 

"  Wait  a  moment  !  "  She  was  clasping  his  arm  with  her 
trembling  hands.  "  Let  me  think  !  " 

Faster  than  the  lightning's  flash  came  a  train  of  thoughts  to 
her  terror-stricken  mind — thoughts  that  brought  her  back  to 
the  time  when,  on  the  eve  of  her  First  Communion,  she  learned 
from  Father  Meagher's  own  lips  how  she  was  a  waif  who  had 
been  adopted  by  the  O'Donoghue  family ;  that  her  parents 
were  gone — gone,  and  not  dead,  had  been  the  word  used  by 
the  priest,  though  the  impression  that  both  her  father  and 
mother  had  died  was  somehow  given  to  the  little  girl ;  and 
when  she  had  sought  to  know  more  of  her  origin,  she  had  been 
told  simply  that  she  was  the  child  of  humble,  but  honest 
parents.  It  must  be  so  then  ;  this  man,  this  intemperate  beg- 
gar, this  outcast  from  all  respectable  society,  this  wild-looking 
being,  from  relationship  with  whom,  and  such  relationship,  her 
whole  soul  recoiled,  must  be  her  father  !  But  no  answering 


356  CARROLL  aDONOGHUS. 

instinct  responded  to  his  appeal  ;  no  strangely  affectionate 
impulse  had  sprung  into  being  at  his  cry — nothing  but  the 
horrible  consciousness  that  she  was  the  child  of  a  man  from 
whom  she  recoiled  with  aversion  and  terror.  In  her  agony — 
an  agony  which  was  causing  her  frame  to  work  convulsively, 
and  sending  pallor  and  crimson  successively  into  her  face, — 
her  heart  turned  to  one  friend — Father  Meagher  ;  he  would 
know ;  he  would  help  her  to  understand  this  wretched 
mystery. 

*'  Come  home  with  me  !  "  she  said  hoarsely,  still  clasping 
Rick's  arm.  "  Come  home,  and  I  will  tell  Father  Meagher." 

Rick  neither  objected  nor  remonstrated,  but  walked  om 
quietly  by  her  side. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 
NORA  MCCARTHY'S  SACRIFICE. 

FATHER  MEAGHER  was  in  his  pleasant  fittle  study,  conning 
a  Latin  work  which  lay  open  before  him,  at  intervals  raising 
his  head  to  address  Clare  O'Donoghue,  who,  at  the  opposite 
end  of  the  table,  was  pretending  to  do  some  needlework. 
Her  fingers  plied  the  shining  implement  it  is  true,  while  the 
clergyman's  eyes  were  upon  her,  but  the  moment  she  was  un- 
observed her  fingers  ceased  to  move,  and  she  yielded  again  to 
despondent  thought.  The  good  priest  had  observed  with  no 
slight  concern  her  growing  moody  reserve,  and.  he  knew  that 
it  boded  little  good  for  her  health  of  mind  or  body.  For  the 
purpose  of  rousing  her  from  her  melancholy,  he  had  insisted 
that  she  should  bear  him  company  in  the  study  until  Nora's 
return,  and  he  had  sought  to  awaken  her  interest  by  recount- 
ing amusing  items  of  the  parish  gossip.  But  a  slight  smile, 
that  was  scarcely  such,  it  was  so  faint,  was  her  only  answer. 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  heard  an  hour  or  so  ago  ? "  he  said, 
shutting  his  book,  rising  from  his  chair,  and  beginning  to  pace 
the  little  room. 

Clare  had  commenced  her  stitching  again,  and  she  seemed 
too  intently  at  work  to  care  even  to  raise  her  head. 

The  priest  continued  :  "  Tom  Murphy  at  the  kilns,  was  tell- 
ing me  : — it  seems  he  has  been  up  to  Tralee  for  the  race  that 
took  place  there  a  couple  of  days  ago,  and  some  other  busi- 
ness kept  him  so  that  he  did  not  get  home  until  shortly  be- 
fore I  was  speaking  to  him.  Ned  Maloney,  down  here,  had 
his  horse  entered  for  that  race,  with  some  noted  jockey  to 
ride  him  ;  and  Tighe  a  Vohr,  by  one  of  his  tricks,  actually 
got  possession  of  the  horse,  rode  the  animal  himself,  and  woe 
(•57) 


,58  CARROLL  VDONOGI1UK 

the  race,  doing  Maloney  and  everybody  concerned  with  the 
old  man  in  the  affair  out  of  all  their  expectations.  It  sent  poor 
Maloney  nearly  crazy — so  much  so,  that  he  has  done,  for  him, 
a  most  unprecedented  action — closed  his  place,  and  gone  up 
to  Tralee  himself.  But  this  is  not  the  whole  of  the  story  : 
Tighe  was  arrested  for  what  he  did,  the  charge  being  preferred 
by  Morty  Carter  ;  but  he  so  badgered  or  befooled  the  officer 
who  had  him  in  charge  that  he  escaped,  and  afterward  he 
actually  found  means  to  hoodwink  or  cajole  Carter  into  with- 
drawing the  warrant  ;  and  I  believe  in  my  heart  now,  since  I 
have  heard  this  narrative  of  Tighe's  doings,  that  he  was  the 
instigator  of  all  that  rabble  and  uproar  in  front  of  Maloney's 
place  last  week. 

"  And  if  he  was,  uncle,  surely  you  ought  to  forgive  him  for 
the  good  turns  he  does  everybody." 

It  was  Moira  who  spoke  ;  she  was  entering  with  the  cup  of 
tea  which  the  priest  sometimes  took  in  his  study,  and  she 
overheard  sufficient  of  the  last  remark  to  enable  her  to  know 
well  to  whom  it  had  reference. 

"  You  forget  yourself,  Moira ! "  said  the  priest  a  little 
sternly,  though  he  was  somewhat  amused  at  the  pertinacity 
with  which  his  niece  insisted  on  defending  Tighe  upon  every 
occasion. 

Having  set  down  the  tea,  she  left  the  room  with  an  appeal- 
ing look  to  Clare,  as  if  she  would  have  said  :  "  You  speak  in 
his  behalf  !  "  But  Clare  was  too  sad  to  respond  to  the  look 
by  even  a  smile. 

There  was  the  noise  of  some  one  entering  by  the  back  way, 
and  an  instant  after,  the  sound  of  hurried  steps  on  the  stair 
and  in  the  little  passage  which  led  to  the  study.  Father 
Meagher  opened  the  door,  and  beheld  Nora  so  deathly  pale, 
BO  wild  and  frightened-looking  that  he  started  in  dismay. 

"  My  child  !  what  has  happened  ? " 

His  exclamation  brought  Clare  to  the  threshold. 

Nora  did  not  speak  ;  as  if  her  voice  had  left  her,  she  caught 
the  sontane  of  the  clergyman,  and  tremblingly  brought  him  to 


ITORA  McCASTHY'S  SACRIFICE.  2S9 

the  little  parlor,  at  the  same  time  waving  back  Clare,  who 
attempted  to  follow.  The  parlor  was  but  dimly  lighted,  but 
it  was  sufficiently  so  to  show  Nora's  terror-stricken  face  as  she 
threw  herself  on  her  knees  at  the  priest's  feet.  "  Father,  for 
the  love  of  Heaven,  answer  me  one  question — is  Rick  of  the 
Hills  my  father  ? " 

The  priest  started,  and  so  violent  was  his  emotion  that  great 
beads  of  perspiration  came  out  upon  his  forehead.  He  did 
not  reply. 

"  For  the  love  of  God,  I  beg  you  to  answer  !  one  little  word, 
and  end  my  horrible  suspense  ! " 

"  Why  do  you  ask  ?  "  The  clergyman's  voice  was  as  quiv- 
ering as  her  own. 

"  Because  Rick  has  told  me  so  ;  he  claims  me  as  his  child. 
Oh,  father,  answer  me — I  must  know  !  " 

She  was  in  no  condition  to  be  evaded,  or  to  be  calmed  by 
anything  save  a  direct  reply,  and  Father  Meagher  gasped, 
rather  than  said :  "  He  is  !  " 

"Then  go  to  him — he  is  down-stairs  waiting  to  see  you." 

Hardly  with  volition  of  his  own,  so  mystified,  and  bewil- 
dered, and  pain-stricken  was  he,  the  priest  obeyed.  Clare  met 
him  in  the  hall,  but  he  could  not  answer  her  ;  he  pointed  to 
the  room  in  which  he  had  left  Nora.  She  rushed  in.  Nora 
was  still  kneeling,  her  face  bowed  on  the  crucifix  she  had 
drawn  from  her  bosom,  and  which  was  the  fac-simile  of  that 
worn  by  her  betrothed.  With  one  hand  she  waved  Clare 
back. 

"  Leave  me — let  me  be  alone  for  a  little  while  with  this  ! " 
indicating  the  crucifix  by  a  motion  of  her  head  ;  "  I  am  not 
myself  now — by  and  by,  some  one  will  tell  you,  but  go  away 
now — please  go  away  !  "  as  Clare  still  hesitated,  ready  herself 
to  burst  into  passionate  weeping  at  this  mystery,  which, 
for  aught  she  knew,  might  mean  some  dreadful  occur- 
rence to  her  brother.  She  obeyed  the  earnest  entreaty,  how- 
ever, and  paced  the  little  hall  in  an  agony  of  suspense.  In  a 
few  moments  Father  Meagher,  flushed  and  excited,  accom- 


,6o  CAE&OLL  VDONOGHTTK 

panied  by  an  ill-formed,  shambling  man  whom  she  recognized 
as  Rick  of  the  Hills,  passed  her,  on  their  way  to  the  study. 
The  door  was  shut  tight  upon  them  ;  still,  as  she  wildly 
walked,  she  could  hear  their  excited  voices,  and  the  more  har- 
rowing sound  of  Nora's  sobbing.  "  My  God  !  my  God  !  " 
moaned  Nora,  deluging  the  crucifix  with  her  tears  ;  "  I  accept 
it  all — I  unite  my  will  with  that  of  Thine.  I  begged  of  Thee 
once  to  inflict  upon  me  any  suffering  so  that  Carroll  would  be 
spared — I  repeat  my  prayer,  and  I  accept  this  trial  from  Thy 
loving  hands.  Oh,  Thou  who  drank  to  the  dregs  Thy  cup  of 
sorrow  and  shame — Thou  whose  heart  broke  in  its  agony, 
have  pity  upon  me  !  give  me  strength,  give  me  courage  for 
my  duty.  Blessed  mother  of  God,  whose  tender  heart  is  never 
closed  to  the  cry  of  the  distressed,  pray  for  me  !  "  and  scapu- 
lar and  crucifix  were  together  pressed  to  her  fevered  lips. 

Within  the  study,  Father  Meagher  was  saying  to  the  cow- 
ering man  before  him  :  "  Did  you  not  solemnly  promise  when 
Mrs.  O'Donoghue  took  the  infant  from  its  dying  mother's 
arms  that  you  would  never  claim  it — that  you  would  never 
assert  your  title  to  it  in  any  way  ?  And  by  what  right  did 
you  dare  to  make  yourself  known  to  her  now,  when  you  did 
not  do  it  before  ?  you  have  not  even  the  claim  which  a  decent 
sober  life  might  have  given  you.  Had  you  been  such,  Rick, 
instead  of  a  worthless  scamp,  1  myself  would  have  revealed 
the  secret  to  her  before  this  ;  but  to  tell  her,  she,  who  it 
almost  angelic  in  goodness,  that  you, — you  as  you  know  your- 
self to  be,  Rick,  without  any  description  of  mine, — were  her 
father,  would  be  to  break  her  heart,  as  I  doubt  not  you,  by 
the  shock  you  have  given  her,  have  already  done.  And  what 
good  is  this  going  to  do,  let  me  ask  you  ?  " — the  priest's  man- 
ner became  more  severe — "  she  shall  not  leave  her  present 
home,  nor  shall  you  be  permitted  to  molest  her  in  any  way." 

Rick  answered  doggedly  :  "  She  is  my  child,  and  she  is  of 
age  to  judge  for  herself  ;  she  told  me  when  I  put  the  case  be- 
fore her  as  if  it  was  another,  and  not  herself,  that  were  she 
the  child  I  spoke  of  nothing  should  part  her  from  her  father 


JT0&4  MCCARTHY' s  SACRIFICE.  a$, 

— that  she  would  acknowledge  him  before  the  wo: Id,  though 
he  was  a  villain  and  an  outcast." 

The  priest's  expression  changed  to  one  of  sadness  and  per- 
plexity. 

Rick  continued,  in  a  tone  that  became  more  full  of  emotion 
with  every  word  :  "  You  ask  me  why  I  claim  her  now,  whr n 
I  didn't  before  ?  I  made  the  sacrifice  long  enough  to  let  her 
have  the  home,  and  the  education,  and  the  friends  she  has, 
while  I  wandered  the  world  with  the  heart  within  me  crying 
for  my  child  ;  may  be  if  I'd  had  her  all  these  years  I  wouldn't 
be  what  I  am  ;  may  be  if  I  could  feel  the  little  arms  around  my 
neck,  as  I  once  felt  them,  they  would  have  kept  me  from 
many  a  crime  !  I  endured  it  all,  Father  Meagher,  as  long  as 
I  could  ;  I  held  out  against  this — against  the  impulse  that 
was  maddening  me,  the  impulse  to  reveal  to  her  who  she  was. 
— till  the  heart  within  me  was  melting  for  my  child.  I  bat 
tied  with  myself,  and  then,  to  satisfy  my  wild  -longing.  I  tested 
her  once  a  few  evenings  ago  when  I  met  her  alone.  She  an- 
swered as  I  told  you  ;  and  what  heart  could  withstand  that  ? 
You  are  a  priest  of  God,"  he  continued,  "  and  you  have  heard 
before  this  the  story  of  wretched  and  broken  hearts  ; — my 
heart  is  such,  and  you  may  blame  me,  aye,  spurn  me,  if  you 
will,  but  think  while  you're  doing  it,  Father  Meagher,  how 
it's  the  wild,  racking,  burning  love  for  my  child  that  has  done 
it  all !  "  He  fell  on  his  knees,  sobbing  aloud. 

The  clergyman  was  deeply  touched  ;  he  made  two  OT 
three  turns  of  the  little  study  before  he  could  subdue  his  emo- 
tion. "  What  will  satisfy  you,  Rick  ? "  he  said  at  last,  pausing 
before  the  kneeling  man.  "  You  surely  would  not  wish  her 
to  leave  those  with  whom  she  has  been  reared  since  her  in- 
fancy— you  could  not,  you  would  not  dream  of  asking  her  to 
live  with  you  ?  " 

Rick  arose.  "  I'll  leave  it  to  herself  ;  111  abide  by  what 
she  wants  :  if  it's  to  wander  forth  again  without  her,  I'll  go  ;  if 
it's  to  depart  from  her  without  ever  returning  to  look  upon  her 
face,  I'll  obey,  because  it  will  be  her  wish."  He  folded  his 
arms  and  let  his  head  droo  forward  on  his  breast 


,6»  CAHROLL  VDONOGHUR 

Father  Meagher  looked  it  him,  and  for  an  instant  he  sick- 
ened as  he  thought  of  that  wild,  half -cleanly,  sinful  man  be- 
ing so  closely  allied  to  pure,  lovely  Nora  McCarthy.  "  Re- 
main here,"  he  said  ;  and  he  left  the  room,  encountering  the 
well-nigh  frantic  Clare. 

"  What  is  it,  father  ?  I  shall  go  mad  if  you  do  not  tell  me  ! 
perhaps  my  brother  has  been  already  executed  !  " 

"  No,  no,  my  poor  child  ;  it  is  nothing  about  Carroll — it 
only  concerns  our  poor  Nora  ;  and  now  go  to  your  room  and 
be  patient ;  in  a  little  while  you  shall  know  all." 

Somewhat  relieved,  though  still  a  prey  to  keen  anxiety,  she 
obeyed,  and  the  priest  returned  to  Nora. 

She  was  still  on  her  knees,  but  no  longer  weeping  ;  her 
whole  attitude  was  strangely  calm,  and  the  face  which  she 
lifted  on  the  clergyman's  entrance — save  for  its  pallor,  which 
was  deepened  by  the  dark  rings  around  her  eyes,  indicating 
severe  mental  suffering — bore  no  trace  of  her  late  emotion. 
She  rose,  and  with  her  hand  still  clasping  the  crucifix  she 
said  quietly  and  slowly,  but  with  an  accent  of  touching  sad- 
ness :  "Father,  I  understand  it  all  now,  and  my  duty  has  be- 
come plain.  He  is  my  father,  my  poor,  wretched  father,  it  is 
true,  but  still  my  father  ;  his  heart  has  been  breaking  for  me 
all  these  years,  and  it  must  be  my  task  to  comfort  him  for  the 
future." 

"  You  would  then  leave  the  friends  who  have  reared  and 
protected  you — who  have  been  more  to  you  than  this  misera- 
ble parent  ever  pretended  to  be  ?  Is  this  your  gratitude, 
Nora?" 

"  Oh,  father,  you  are  harrowing  my  soul !  I  know,  I  feel 
all  that  you  would  say,  but  listen  to  me.  Could  you  hear  him, 
as  I  have  heard  him,  depict  his  broken  heart,  his  blighted  life  ; 
and  could  you  feel,  as  I  have  felt,  that  neither  might  have 
been  had  I,  his  child,  whom  he  so  loved,  been  with  him,  you 
would  only  repeat  the  counsel  my  own  heart  is  whispering. 
He  is  now  a  drunkard,  a  wanderer,  an  outcast ;  if  I,  by  pa- 
tient, unwearied  affection,  can  win  him  back,  can  reclaim  hi§ 


NORA  McCARTffT'8  SACRIFICE.  t6j 

ionl,  is  it  not  my  instant  duty  to  fly  to  him  ?  Which,  father, 
would  you  have  me  do — spare  the  dear  ones,  who  have  bc«n 
more  than  father  or  mother  to  me,  and  spare  myself  the  an- 
guish of  a  parting  which  after  all  will  be  the  occasion  of  only 
a  little  earthly  pain,  or  seek  to  reclaim  an  immortal  soul — 
you,  whose  life  is  devoted  to  souls,  answer  me  ? " 

The  priest  turned  away  ;  he  was  too  deeply  affected  by  the 
holy  enthusiasm,  the  spirit  of  self-immolation  which  spoke  in 
her  earnest  eyes,  to  answer  her  immediately. 

"  Speak,  father  ! "  she  entreated. 

He  slowly  faced  her.  "  My  child,  have  you  counted  all  the 
costs  ?  where  will  be  your  home  with  this  poor  wretch  ;  what 
your  means  of  support ;  how  will  you  endure  the  hard,  pain- 
ful, perhaps  ignominious  life  to  which  you  may  be  subjected  ? 
Think  well  before  you  decide.  And  there  are  other  ways  by 
which  you  may  discharge  your  duty  to  this  miserable  being. 
God  does  not  require  such  an  utter  sacrifice  of  yourself  as 
you  desire  to  make." 

"  Nay,  father  ;  "  a  mournful  smile  broke  over  her  features 
for  a  moment — "  anything  less  than  living  with  him,  doing  foi 
him,  comforting  him,  would  not  be  fulfilling  the  duty  which  1 
owe  him  as  his  child — and  it  is  for  this  affection  that  his  heart 
has  been  crying  all  these  years.  You  ask  me  where  will  be 
our  home,  and  what  will  be  our  means  of  support  : — a  very 
little,  humble  home  will  suffice  for  us  ;  and  for  our  support, 
I  can  earn  that — my  needlework  has  already  brought  me  no 
inconsiderable  sum,  and  God  will  take  care  of  us." 

"Have  you  given  a  thought  to  what  Carroll  will  say  of 
this?" 

Oh,  the  anguish  that  shone  in  her  dry,  burning  eyes  !  the 
emotion  that  became  visible  in  her  trembling  lip  !  for  an  in- 
stant it  threatened  to  overwhelm  her,  and  she  swayed  to  and 
fro  with  the  convulsive  throes  of  her  form.  "  You,  father, 
will  break  it  gently  to  him,  and  you  will  tell  him  to  forget  me. 
I  could  not,  I  would  not,  hold  him  to  his  troth  now,  when  I 
know  myself  to  be  the  offspring  of  such  a  parent  J " 


*64  CAK&OLL  VDONOQRUX. 

u  1  shall  do  nothing  of  the  kind ! "  broke  out  the  priest 
bluntly — all  the  more  bluntly,  and  indignantly  as  well,  that  he 
might  hide  his  own  emotion  ;  "  tell  him  that,"  he  continued, 
"  to  break  his  heart !  and  Carroll  O'Donoghue  is  not  the  man 
to  resign  you  because  of  what  has  occurred  ;  besides,  he  is 
already  aware  that  you  were  a  little  waif  adopted  into  hii 
family,  and  that  your  true  name  is  Nora  Sullivan." 

As  if  she  longed  to  end  the  distressing  interview,  she  turned 
toward  the  door,  saying  :  "  Come  with  me,  father,  and  I  shall 
tell  him  that  I  am  ready  to  acknowledge  him  before  the 
world."  Without,  however,  waiting  for  the  priest,  she  hurried 
to  the  study  ;  but  at  the  door  of  the  little  room,  with  her 
hand  upon  the  knob,  she  remained  standing  till  Father 
Meagher,  who  had  followed,  reached  her.  Perchance  she 
deemed  his  presence  would  help  her  to  ward  off  the  feeling 
of  death-like  faintness  which  seized  her  at  the  thought  of 
what  she  was  about  to  do.  By  a  desperate  effort  she  recov- 
ered herself,  and  with  a  mental  prayer  for  strength  she  entered, 
the  priest,  who  was  unable  to  prevent,  or  remonstrate  further, 
following. 

Rick  of  the  Hills  was  in  the  same  position  in  which  Father 
Meagher  had  left  him — standing  with  his  arms  folded,  and  his 
bowed  head  so  deeply  forward  that  his  chin  rested  upon  his 
breast.  The  light  from  the  study  lamp  fully  revealed  him — 
his  coarse,  abundant  black  hair  hanging  in  disordered  masses, 
his  high  shoulders,  and  his  whole  ungainly  form.  He  did  not 
look  up  at  the  entrance  ;  he  did  not  make  a  motion ;  and 
Nora,  not  suffering  herself  to  pause  for  an  instant,  not  suffer- 
ing herself  to  contemplate  for  a  moment  that  unkempt,  misera- 
ble figure,  flew  to  him,  folded  her  arms  about  him,  and  cried, 
while  her  tears  burst  forth  : 

"  Father  !  1  am  here  to  acknowledge  you,  to  wander  o'er 
the  world  with  you,  to  pay  you  back  love  for  love  ! " 

Was  it  fancy  on  the  part  of  the  priest  that,  for  a  second, 
there  was  an  actual  shrinking  of  Rick  of  the  Hills  from  that 
embrace  :  a  sudden,  involuntary  start  as  if  he  would  have 


NORA  MCCARTHY' 8  SACRIFICE.  2gs 

broken  desperately  from  it?  but  the  next  moment  he  had 
thrown  his  arms  about  Nora,  and  his  big  and  rapid  tears  were 
CGirsing  with  her  own. 

He  released  her  gently,  as  gently  as  if  she  were  the  little 
babe  of  whom  he  so  often  spoke,  whose  clinging  arms  he  wat 
unfastening  from  his  neck,  and  he  put  her  from  him,  almost 
as  if  he  felt  some  invisible  barrier  rising  between  them 
"  Father  Meagher  !  "  He  sprung  erect  as  he  uttered  the 
name,  and  stood  with  a  manliness  of  bearing  that  seemed 
strangely  foreign  to  his  appearance,  continuing :  "  My  soul  is 
black  with  crimes  before  Heaven  this  night.  I  am  a  misera 
ble  wretch,  fit  only  to  mingle  with  the  scum  of  the  earth,'  and 
perhaps  this  last  act  of  mine,  which  has  torn  her  heart " — in- 
dicating Nora  by  a  slight  motion  of  his  head — "  and  which 
may  be  the  means  of  blighting  her  life,  has  gone  up  to  Heaven 
with  a  bitter  cry  for  vengeance.  I  say  " — in  his  earnestness 
he  took  a  step  toward  the  priest — "  it  may  be  so  ;  but  I  call 
God  to  witness  it  was  the  love  for  my  little  one  that  drove  me 
to  it — the  little  one  that  went  from  my  arms  with  the  smile  on 
her  mouth,  and  the  bright  look  in  her  eyes — the  little  one  that 
comes  to  me  in  my  dreams,  always  a  little  one  ! " 

It  was,  as  he  had  said,  always  a  little  one  ;  his  affection 
seemed  to  be  centered  round  the  babe  that  he  had  resigned, 
rather  than  about  the  woman  whom  that  babe  had  become — 
as  if  he  could  not  reconcile  himself  to  the  change  that  tim* 
had  effected.  It  might  be  due,  as  the  deeply  touched  priest 
thought,  to  the  fact  that  it  was  only  during  the  period  of  her 
babyhood  the  wretched  father  had  been  permitted  to  claim 
and  to  caress  her  ;  for,  though  he  was  bound  by  a  solemn 
promise  not  to  reveal  himself  to  her,  nor  to  discover  to  others 
the  relation  which  existed  between  them,  still  there  had  been 
frequent  and  ample  opportunities,  had  he  chosen  to  use  them, 
when  he  might  have  seen  and  spoken  to  Nora.  That  he  had 
not  done  so,  now  in  the  face  of  such  wild  affection  as  he 
evinced,  was  a  surprise  to  the  priest,  and  he  listened  to  the 
unhappy  man  with  mingled  emotions  of  wonder  and  surprise 


a66  CARROLL  VDONOGHUE. 

"  You  blame  me,"  Rick  continued,  with  a  desperation  in 
his  voice  which  seemed  to  tell  of  the  last  bitter  throes  of  a 
broken  heart,  "  and  spurn  me  for  what  I  have  done  ;  and  she 
herself," — again  indicating  Nora  by  a  motion  of  his  head — 
"  when  she  feels  the  poverty  and  the  shame  of  being  my  child, 
may  turn  against  me  ;  but  God,  who  knows  the  secrets  of  all 
hearts,  knows  what  drove  me  to  do  this,  and  on  the  last  day, 
Father  Meagher,  when  we  are  all  before  the  Judgment  Seat, 
perhaps  in  my  soul,  damned  as  it  may  be,  you  will  be  able  to 
read  the  woe  and  the  despair  which  have  been  my  company 
for  many  a  year."  For  an  instant  emotion  threatened  to  stifle 
his  voice,  but  he  overcame  it,  and  resumed  :  "  Remember 
now,  that  I  do  not  force  her — I  do  not  ask  her  to  come  with 
me  ;  I'll  wander  again,  childless,  as  I  did  before,  and  I'll  not 
disturb  her  with  my  presence.  Let  her  choose  for  herself 
which  she  will  have — her  father,  or  the  friends  who  have  been 
more  to  her  than  father  or  mother."  He  fell  back  to  his  first 
position,  his  arms  folded,  and  his  chin  upon  his  breast. 

Nora  threw  herself  at  the  priest's  feet.  "  You  who  have 
been  my  friend,  my  counselor,  my  father,  do  not  deter  me 
when  I  say  that  my  choice  is  with  him — do  not  refuse  me 
your  approval,  and  oh,  do  not  deny  me  your  blessing  !  "  Her 
voice  was  choked  with  tears. 

"  My  poor  child  !  I  beg  God's  blessing  most  earnestly  upon 
you,  and  I  beg  Him  to  give  you  courage  and  strength  for  the 
hard  fate  you  have  chosen  ;  far  be  it  from  me  to  seek  to  dis-  - 
suade  you  from  what  you  so  earnestly  deem  to  be  your  duty  ; 
but  I  may  at  least  try  to  smooth  the  road  before  you.  Go  to 
your  room  now — this  distressing  affair  has  been  too  much  for 
you, — and  leave  me  to  arrange  matters  with" — he  paused 
•uddenly,  endeavoring  to  conceal  his  hesitation  by  a  slight 
cough  ;  then  he  resumed  quickly,  "  with  your  father.  To-mor- 
row you  shall  know  our  plans." 

She  hesitated  a  moment,  as  if  she  fain  would  have  received 
immediately  the  information  of  which  he  spoke  ;  but  the 
priest's  face  expressed  too  earnestly  his  desire  for  her  with- 


NORA  JfcCARTHTB  SACRIFICE.  ,67 

drawal.  With  that  same  quick  manner  and  half-averted  gaze 
with  which  she  approached  Rick  of  the  Hills  before — as  if, 
did  she  allow  herself  a  moment  to  think,  or  to  contemplate 
him,  her  resolution  might  fail, — she  now  advanced  to  him. 
"  Good  night,  father," — her  voice  sunk  as  she  uttered  the  last 
word,  but  with  a  heroic  effort  she  instantly  recovered  it,  and 
continued :  "  To-morrow,  then,  the  world  shall  know  us 
both."  She  wrung  his  hand,  and  went  quickly  from  the 
room. 

Clare  was  waiting  for  her  ;  her  eyes  red  and  swollen  from 
weeping,  and  her  whole  disordered  appearance  manifesting 
how  much  she  had  suffered  from  her  dreadful  suspense.  "  At 
last  ! "  she  murmured  ;  "  now  surely  you  will  tell  me  !  " 

Nora  did  not  answer,  but  drew  her  gently  within  the  room 
— drew  her  gently  to  an  humble  image  of  our  lady  placed,  to- 
gether with  a  large  crucifix,  on  a  temporary  pedestal,  and 
before  which  they  were  both  wont  to  say  their  morning  and 
evening  prayers.  There,  kneeling,  and  impelling  Clare  to 
kneel  with  her,  Nora  told  the  wretched  story.  She  told  it 
without  tears,  without  faltering,  without  much  trace  of  any 
emotion  ;  but  the  expression  of  her  eyes,  fixed  on  the  crucifix, 
and  her  face,  as  ghastly  as  if  it  were  already  beneath  the  cof- 
fin-lid, seemed  to  deny  her  apparent  calmness. 

Clare  would  not  believe  the  tale  at  first — it  was  too  horri- 
ble !  Nora,  lovely,  noble,  saintly  Nora,  the  child  of  such  a 
man  ! — it  could  not  be  ;  and  she  burst  into  passionate  weep- 
ing. But  when  she  realized  at  last  how  true  Nora  deemed  it, 
and  when  she  divined  piece  by  piece — for  Nora,  fearing  the 
pain  it  would  inflict,  refrained  from  telling  fully, — how  bitter 
a  sacrifice  it  would  entail,  she  clung  affrightedly  to  her  com- 
panion, and  sobbed  more  passionately  :  "  Surely  you  will  not 
leave  us  !  we  cannot  do  without  you — I,  at  least  shall  go  with 
you  ! " 

"  Hush,  Clare  ;  do  not  talk  so  wildly  ;  it  will  be  your  task 
to  pray  for  strength  for  me,  and  for  repentance  for  my  poor, 
wretched  father."  For  the  first  time  her  voice  faltered  ;  she 


368  CARROLL  VDONOQHU1S. 

could  not  pronounce  that  name  without  the  most  bitter 
tions   rising   and   threatening    to   overcome   utterly   all   hei 
courage  and  devotion. 

"  And  Carroll,"  wailed  Clare,  "  how  will  he  bear  this  ?  " 

The  mention  of  him  gave  new  impulse  to  the  bitter  and 
burning  anguish  which  Nora  had  struggled  so  long  to  repress  \ 
it  rose  now  in  a  paroxysm  of  agony,  and  it  was  Clare's  turn 
to  hold,  and  to  attempt  to  comfort,  the  grief-stricken  girl  • 
she  was  experiencing  again  that  uncontrollable  sorrow  which 
she  had  felt  so  mysteriously  in  the  prison  cell.  She  remem- 
bered it  distinctly  now, — that  unaccountable  paroxysm  to 
which  she  had  given  such  utter  way,  and  the  cause  of  which 
she  had  been  unable  to  explain.  This  burst  was  as  wild  and 
deep,  and  she  could  not  but  feel  that  the  former  was  a  pre- 
sentiment, a  herald  of  the  too  real  and  lasting  grief  which  had 
now  begun  to  darken  her  life.  "  Father  Meagher  will  tell  him 
gently  everything,"  she  said  as  soon  as  she  could  speak  ;  "  he 
will  bear  to  Carroll  my  desire  to  be  released  from  my  troth." 

"  Released  from  your  troth  /  "  repeated  Clare  slowly,  and  as 
if  she  did  not  understand. 

"Yes,"  was  the  mournful  reply  ;  "I could  not,  I  would  not 
hold  him  to  our  engagement  now,  when  I  am  the  child  of  such 
a  parent." 

Clare  sprung  to  her  feet,  her  eyes  dilated,  her  cheeks  flush- 
ing, her  whole  form  swelling  with  indignation  ;  even  her  voice 
was  quivering  :  "  Do  you  think  that  my  brother  is  so  base  as 
to  resign  you  for  that  ?  when  he  plighted  his  troth  to  you,  and 
received  yours  in  return,  it  was  for  sake  of  yourself,  Nora  Mc- 
Carthy, and  not  because  of  the  parents  you  might  have  had. 
It  is  you  he  loves,  not  your  origin,  nor  your  surroundings  ; 
And  you  mistake  the  character  of  Carroll  O'Donoghue  if  you 
think  such  vileness  could  exist  in  it.  You  have  yet  to  learn 
that  an  O'Donoghue  prizes  virtue  in  woman  far  more  than 
her  pedigree."  She  sunk  overcome  by  Nora's  side* 


CHAPTER  XXXIL 

CARROLL'S  TRUST  IN  CARTER. 

TIGHE  A  VOHR  had  returned  punctually  on  the  expira- 
tion of  his  fortnight's  leave  of  absence  to  his  duties  as  valet, 
and  a  smile  of  pleasure  broke  over  Captain  Dennier's  grave 
face  as  he  saw  the  bright,  neat,  clean  appearance  of  his 
droll  Irish  servant.  Indeed,  Tighe  had  taken  special  pains 
with  his  toilet,  brushing  his  brown  hair  till  its  gloss  and  curl 
would  have  been  an  ornament  to  the  fairest  feminine  head, 
and  arranging  and  smoothing  his  clothes  upon  his  person,  till 
he  stood  forth  as  neat  and  lithe  a  figure  as  any  upon  which 
the  Englishman's  eyes  might  care  to  rest.  He  was  profuse  in 
his  thanks  for  the  favor  which  had  been  accorded  him,  de- 
clared that  Shaun  was  perfectly  recovered,  and  in  stanch  con- 
dition to  endure  the  exciting  life  of  the  barracks,  and  he  as- 
serted his  readiness  to  show  by  his  future  behavior  how  truly 
devoted  he  was  to  his  master's  interests  ;  all  of  which  state- 
ments the  officer  received  with  an  amused  smile,  though  he 
could  not  forbear  acknowledging  to  himself  that  he  was  really 
pleased  at  Tighe's  return — not  because  of  the  services  of  the 
latter,  for  those  had  been  as  well,  or  perhaps  even  better,  ren- 
dered by  an  English  substitute,  but  because  of  that  strange, 
undefinablc  something  within  him  which  constantly  impelled 
him,  despite  his  birth,  his  profession,  his  principles,  to  incline 
to  the  Irish.  Perchance  the  bright,  winsome  face,  which  he 
could  not  entirely  exclude  from  his  thoughts,  had  much  to  do 
with  the  strange  influence.  Annoyed  with  himself,  he  took  a 
hasty  turn  of  the  room,  then,  as  if  his  pride  would  cover  even 
that  slight  exhibition  of  mental  disturbance  before  his  servant, 
he  stopped  short,  saying  : 

(•69) 


I7o  CARROLL 

"  You  were  away,  I  believe, — what  part  of  the  country  wer« 
you  in  ? " 

Tighe  pretended  to  be  seized  with  a  very  violent  fit  of 
coughing.  Knowing  that  Captain  Dennier,  unlike  Captain 
Crawford,  was  extremely  reserved,  and  little  given  to  interro- 
gating subordinates  on  the  latter's  own  private  matters,  he  was 
utterly  unprepared  for  the  question  ;  he  wanted  time  to  medi- 
tate the  prudence  of  naming  Dhrommacohol.  Certainly  the 
officer  had  never  given  evidence  that  he  recognized  in  Tighe 
any  one  that  had  been  identified  with  Carroll  O'Donoghue  on 
the  night  of  the  latter's  arrest,  and  determining  to  trust  to  that 
assurance,  Tighe  answered,  feigning  a  husky  tone  in  order  to 
show  his  great  difficulty  in  recovering  his  voice  after  the 
coughing  spell :  "  I  was  down  to  see  me  mother  in  Dhrom- 
macohol." 

"  Dhrommacohol!  '"  the  name  was  repeated  with  such  sur- 
prise and  interest  in  the  tones  that  Tighe,  who  had  cast  his 
eyes  down,  now  looked  up  in  astonishment.  "  The  name 
sounds  fanaliar,"  continued  the  captain  ;  "have  you  lived 
there  long  ?  do  you  know  many  of  the  people  ? " 

"  I've  lived  there  since  afore  I  was  born,"  replied  Tighe  a 
Vchr,  who,  in  his  earnestness  to  impress  on  his  listener  the  full 
length  of  time  he  had  spent  in  the  village,  was  unaware  of  the 
bull  he  was  making  ;  "  and  as  for  the  people,  there's  not  one, 
from  the  priest  of  the  parish  down  to  the  beggar  that  hasn't 
a  cabin  to  lie  in,  that  I  don't  know." 

"  Then  of  course  you  know  a  family  of  the  O'Donoghues 
— a  brother  and  sister,  I  believe,  and  a  young  lady  who  has 
made  her  home  with  them." 

"The  O'Donoghues,"  repeated  Tighe  slowly,  as  if  for  a 
moment  he  did  not  quite  remember ;  "  do  you  mane  Carroll 
O'Donoghue,  that's  held  in  the  county  jail  beyant,  on  a  charge 
o'  trayson  to  the  governmint  ?  sure  they're  the  noblest  family 
in  the  whole  o'  Ireland.  Oh  !  not  a  lady  in  the  land,  not  even 
barrin'  the  Lady  Mayoress  hersel',  could  come  up  to  Miss 
O'Donoghue  an'  Miss  McCarthy  for  rale  beauty  an'  goodness  I 


CARROLL'S  TRUST  IN  CARTER. 


•71 


don't  the  poor  o'  siven  parishes  say  particler  prayers  for  thira 
both — the  two  livin'  angels,  as  they're  called,  jist  for  the  charity, 
an'  the  koind  words,  an*  the  swate  looks  they  has  always 
ready  for  poor  craythurs.  As  for  Miss  O'Donoghue,  she's  the 
idol  an'  the  darlin'  o*  iverybody  for  the  spirited  way  she  hai 
about  things." 

A  sudden  and  vivid  blush  dyed  Captain  Dennier's  cheeks, 
causing  him  to  bite  his  lip  with  anger  that  it  should  be  so,  and 
turning  away,  he  dismissed  Tighe  to  his  duties  with  a  curt, 
"  Thank  you." 

Tighe  a  Vohr  had  lost  neither  the  blush,  nor  the  hasty  and 
abrupt  turning  away  of  the  officer  ;  he  knew,  as  well  as  did 
that  gentleman  himself,  that  the  latter  action  was  a  pretext  to 
hide  his  sudden  embarrassment,  and  Tighe  departed  to  his 
duties  with  a  very  expressive  look,  and  an  observation  to 
Shaun  on  his  first  opportunity  of  speaking  to  the  dog  without 
being  overheard,  which  told  how  shrewdly  he  had  divined 
Captain  Dennier's  feelings. 

"  Faith,  Shaun,"  said  he,  "  there's  more  nor  Moira  an'  me 
in  love,  only  the  quality  has  a  quare  way  o'  doin'  their  coortin' 
— I'll  engage  now,  that  thim  two'll  jist  kape  apart  till  one  or 
the  other  dies  o'  their  falins'.  That's  not  the  way  o'  the 
poor  at  all — they  have  no  such  things  as  pride  an'  the  loike, 
that  the  rich  payple  do  be  torminted  wid,  to  kape  thim  from 
poppin'  the  quistion.  An'  I  don't  know  but  it's  the  bist  way, 
Shaun — I'd  rather  be  mesel'  as  I  am,  wid  Moira  Moynahan 
besoide  me,  than  king  o'  England  wid  the  Indies  to  boot. 
And  as  for  him" —  indicating  with  a  motion  of  the  thumb  the 
part  of  the  barracks  where  he  supposed  Captain  Dennier  to  be, 
— "  I  don't  know  about  the  loike  o'  him  for  Miss  O'Donoghue  : 
to  be  sure  he's  a  purty  dacent  koind  o'  gintleman,  not  loike 
the  generality  o'  the  scurvy  English  at  all  ;  but  he's  not  her 
koind.  Faith  I'm  sorry  he's  a  sassenagh." 

And  with  that  regret  expressed  very  forcibly  to  Shaun, 
Tighe  plied  himself  anew  to  his  duties,  which  had  been  sus- 
pended while  relieving  himself  of  the  foregoing  remarks. 


»7a  CARROLL  VDONOOHVX. 

Despite  Carter's  care  to  give  his  own  skillfully-concocted 
version  of  the  manner  in  which  he  had  forfeited  his  stakes  in 
the  race,  the  story  of  Tighe's  clever  trick,  with  many  a  ludi- 
crous addition,  was  in  everybody's  mouth,  and  Tighe  a  Voh» 
suddenly  found  himself  the  cynosure  of  many  eyes,  and  the 
darling  attraction  of  numerous  ardent  and  impulsive  hearts. 
In  the  very  barracks  he  became  the  general  favorite,  and  he 
was  permitted  dmost  as  many  privileges  as  the  guards  them- 
selves. Garfield  had  become  his  warm  and  devoted  friend, 
and  there  was  no  length  to  which  the  grateful  quartermaster 
would  not  go  to  serve  Tighe. 

The  fair  Widow  Moore  had  not  grown  a  whit  more  en- 
couraging in  her  demeanor  to  the  ardent  redcoat ;  on  two 
occasions,  impelled  by  his  overwhelming  desire  to  have  her 
speak  to  him,  he  ventured  to  approach  her ;  each  time  she 
drew  herself  up  with  coldest  hauteur,  and  answered  frigidly 
his  stammering  salutation,  while  her  brother,  the  rake,  Joe 
Moore,  happening  to  be  present,  looked  as  if  he  would  like 
to  transfix  the  daring  soldier.  So  the  latter  was  forced  to 
withdraw,  too  much  abashed  even  to  make,  as  he  had  intended 
to  do,  a  whispered  allusion  to  her  letter.  Tighe,  to  whom  he 
hastened  to  tell  the  story  of  his  discomfiture,  sought  to  com- 
fort him  by  saying : 

"You'll  spile  it  all  if  you  kape  on  doin'  thim  koind  o' 
things  !  didn't  I  tell  you  afore  to  kape  out  o'  her  sight  in- 
toirely,  an'  wait  for  somethin'  favorable  to  turn  up  ?  A  dale 
o'  it  is  due  to  her  knave  o'  a  brother  ;  for  some  rayson  that's 
past  undhersthandin'  he  doesn't  loike  a  bone  in  yer  body,  an* 
if  yer  kape  puttin'  yersel'  in  his  sister's  soight  the  way  you 
do,  it's  turn  her  intoirely  agin  you  he  will  Now,  if  you'll 
take  me  advice,  Mr.  Garfield,  you'll  shtay  complately  away 
from  her,  an'  purtind  to  iverybody  you  don't  care  a  thrawntcn 
for  her.  Faith,  that'll  make  her  fale  sore ;  it'll  be  very 
woundin'  to  her  to  think  that  you  could  so  aisily  forgit  her. 
You  know  I  tould  you  once  that  the  Irish  wimen  were  very 
quare  ;  the  divil  a  lie  in  it,  for  they  have  <us  many  thricks  an' 


CARROLL'S  TUUBT  W  CARTER.  2^ 

humors  as'd  turn  a  poor  fellow's  brain  backwards  to  undher- 
sthand.  If  they  see  a  man  dyin'  about  thim,  an'  ready  to  fall 
on  his  knees  at  their  fate  as — beggin'  yer  honor's  pardon — 
some  o'  yer  own  counthrymin's  given  to  doin',  begorra  it's 
small  chance  at  all  he'll  have  ;  but,  if  he's  a  man  that  doesn't 
seem  to  care  one  way  or  the  other,  that's  as  ready  to  lave  thim 
as  to  sake  thim,  an'  is  bould  an'  indepindint  all  the  toime, 
faith  it's  into  his  kapin'  they'll  give  their  fluttherin'  hearts  ; 
so  you  see,  Mr.  Garfield,  the  coorse  you  ought  to  follow." 

"  I  acknowledge  your  advice  to  be  sound,  my  good  fellow," 
answered  the  quartermaster,  who  had  listened  with  profound 
attention  to  Tighe's  remarks,  "  and  I  thank  you  ;  but  my 
fears  of  orders  to  leave  here  would  make  me  risk  everything 
to  have  an  understanding  with  her." 

"  Sure  that'd  be  the  viry  thing  !  "  answered  Tighe  a  Vohr, 
whose  own  earnest  desire  was  for  the  arrival  of  some  order 
which  would  oblige  the  quartermaster  to  leave  Tralee  before 
he  could  discover  the  deception  that  had  been  practiced  upon 
him  ;  and  it  was  Tighe's  steady  purpose  to  keep  the  man  be- 
fooled until  the  occurrence  of  such  a  happy  riddance.  "  Does 
not  the  varse  writer,  Moore,"  he  continued,  "  or  some  o'  thim 
other  min  that's  called  poets,  say,  '  it's  dishtance  linds  inchant- 
mint  to  the  view  ? '  an'  it's  niver  so  fond  o'  you  she'll  be  till 
you're  away  ;  faith  it's  thin,  whin  she'll  think  she  lost  you  be 
her  own  cruel  thratemint,  that  her  heart'll  be  cryin'  for  you 
out  an'  out,  an'  she'll  be  so  glad  to  hear  from  you  at  all  that 
you  may  safely  sind  one  o'  yer  own  written  letther's  widout 
waitin'  to  get  an  Irishman  to  compose  it  for  you." 

With  which  consolation  Garfield  was  forced  to  be  satisfied, 
and  which  advice,  for  lack  of  better,  as  well  as  for  lack  of 
courage  to  do  otherwise,  he  followed. 

Tighe  was  a  fair  and  inspiriting  singer  of  old  Irish  ballads, 
and  sometimes  he  tuned  and  lilted  for  the  amusement  of  the 
soldiers.  But  many  a  time,  when  his  strain  was  loudest  and 
most  animated,  his  heart  was  aching,  and  his  breast  was  swell* 


•74 


CARROLL  VDONOQHUK 


ing  with  despondent  thoughts  of  his  imprisoned  young  master. 
Thus  far  all  his  wit  and  vigilance  had  not  availed  to  open  a 
passage  for  himself  to  Carroll's  cell ;  and  though  he  believed 
in  Garfield's  friendship,  and  felt  that  perhaps  he  might  even 
trust  the  simple-minded,  unsuspecting  quartermaster,  yet  pru- 
dence constantly  dictated  to  him  the  necessity  of  concealing 
his  interest  in  the  prisoner.  Propitious  fate,  however,  afforded 
him  an  unexpected  opportunity.  Captain  Dennier  dispatched 
him  with  a  message  to  the  governor  of  the  jail,  and  while  he 
waited  for  an  answer  he  was  granted  the  permission  which  he 
asked — to  make  a  tour  of  the  jail  yard.  He  had  already  learned 
the  side  on  which  Carroll's  cell  was  situated,  and  knew  that  it 
was  the  corridor  which  faced  the  yard.  In  true  clownish 
fashion  he  sauntered  about,  tuning  softly,  as  if  the  strain 
broke  from  him  in  the  very  carelessness  of  his  heart.  Be- 
yond a  moment's  curious  stare,  the  warden  s  paid  him  no  at- 
tention. Arrived  at  the  spot  below  which  his  master's  cell 
was  situated,  he  suddenly  broke  into  a  quaint  old  Irish  bal- 
lad ;  it  was  one  that  Nora  McCarthy  used  to  sing,  and  Tighe 
had  learned  it  that  he  too  might  divert  the  young  master  when 
botk  were  from  home,  as  they  frequently  had  been,  on  sport- 
ing expeditions.  He  sung  it  now  with  his  heart  in  the  strain, 
and  his  soul  praying  that  it  might  reach  the  ears  of  the  dear 
prisoner  below.  It  was  a  stirring,  touching  lyric,  set  to  an  air 
so  wild  that  it  suggested  scenes  of  lonely  mountain  passes  and 
distant  sea-washed  crags.  The  melody  was  so  finely  ren- 
dered by  Tighe's  deep,  rich  voice  that  the  wardens  forgot 
their  surprise  in  their  admiration,  and  they  did  not  disturb 
him.  When  the  song  was  ended  he  resumed  his  careless, 
clownish  air,  and  continued  to  repeat  his  tour  of  the  yard 
until  he  was  summoned  to  receive  the  answer  to  Captain  Den- 
nier's  message. 

The  strain  had  reached  the  ears  of  him  for  whom  it  was  in- 
tended ;  faintly  at  first,  still  sufficient  to  rouse  to  an  attitude  of 
intensely  eager  attention  the  poor  prisoner,  who  was  sitting 
gloomily  upon  hi«  bed  He  sprung  to  his  feet,  standing  upon 


CARROLL1 8  TRUST  IN  CARTER.  a75 

the  pallet  as  close  to  the  iron  bars  that  guarded  the  single 
aperture  his  cell  possessed  as  it  was  possible  for  him  to  get ; 
but  the  grated  space  was  still  considerably  above  his  head. 

Louder  and  louder  became  the  song,  and  more  replete  with 
all  the  passionate  affection  of  the  heart  of  the  singer,  and  Car- 
roll, recognizing  the  voice  and  the  air,  gave  a  scream  of  joy ; 
but,  alas  !  it  could  not  penetrate  beyond  the  walls  of  his 
prison.  The  floodgates  of  his  heart  were  opened  at  this  touch- 
ing evidence  of  Tighe  a  Vohr's  attachment,  and  the  unmanned 
youth,  in  his  gratitude  and  joy,  cried  like  a  child.  "  I  knew 
he  would  find  some  way  of  getting  near  me,"  he  murmured, 
"  and  to  let  me  at  least  know  of  his  presence  ;  "  and  when  the 
song  was  ended,  he  waited  in  ardent  longing  for  its  renewal. 

The  harsh  sound  of  a  key  turning  in  his  cell  door  broke 
upon  his  ear,  and  he  turned  almost  in  expectation  of  behold- 
ing Tighe  a  Vohr.  It  was  Morty  Carter — Morty  Carter,  with 
all  the  appearance  of  ardent  affection  and  extravagant  joy. 
He  waited  only  to  have  the  door  tightly  closed  behind  him, 
when  he  hastened  with  outstretched  arms  to  the  prisoner. 
"  My  dear,  dear  boy !  you  thought  I  had  neglected  you — that 
I  had  forgotten  my  promise  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  answered  Carroll  simply  and  trustingly  ;  "  I 
knew  you  would  do  neither ;  beside,  I  have  had  two  gleams  of 
sunshine  since  our  last  meeting — a  visit  from  Father  Meagher, 
and  Nora,  and  Clare,  brought  about,  I  believe,  by  the  dear 
Tighe  a  Vohr  ;  and  just  now,  hardly  five  minutes  before  your 
entrance,  I  heard  the  faithful  fellow  himself  singing  above  my 
window  here." 

Carter  was  obliged  to  feign  a  sort  of  spasm,  in  order  to 
conceal  the  confusion  and  excitement  into  which  he  was 
thrown  by  Carroll's  statement 

*'  What  is  it,  Morty  ?  "  exclaimed  the  prisoner  in  affright, 
while  at  the  same  time  he  endeavored  to  clasp  the  corpulent 
form,  which  trembled  violently. 

"Nothing,  my  dear  boy!  absolutely  nothing,"  protested 
Carter  as,  feigning  to  recover,  he  wiped  his  face,  and  appeared 


t76  CARROLL  VDONOGHUR 

to  make  an  effort  to  smile.  "  It  is  only  one  of  the  turns  which 
I  have  frequently  of  Hte  ;  ah,  Carroll  !  when  the  heart  sus- 
tains such  shocks  as  mine  has  received  in  the  undeserved 
coldness  of  friends,  it  would  have  to  be  adamant  not  to  break 
under  them  some  time  ;  and  it  is  the  effect,  the  bitter  effect, 
of  treachery  and  slander  that  it  has  been  my  fate  to  endure, 
which  you  witnessed  in  my  sudden  spasm  ;  but  one  day  all 
my  wrongs  shall  be  righted." 

"  Yes,  one  day,  Morty,"  spoke  up  the  prisoner  cheerfully, 
both  to  comfort  his  visitor,  and  to  hide  his  own  emotion  ; 
"  and  you  will  stand  forth  better  known,  better  loved,  than 
ever." 

44  I  care  not,"  answered  Carter,  mournfully,  "  so  they  leave 
me  your  affection  ;  if  you,  Carroll,  do  not  turn  against  me,  I 
can  face  the  rest — I  shall  have  courage  to  bear  all !  " 

"  Have  I  not  already  sworn  to  you," — and  the  young  man  in 
his  simple  earnestness  caught  Carter's  hands  and  pressed  them 
hard — "  that  I  should  ever  be  true  ?  Cease  to  press  me  on 
this  wretched  subject,  Morty ;  it  harrows  my  soul  !  " 

44  On  the  occasion  of  the  visit  of  which  you  spoke,"  asked 
Carter,  M  wa3  nothing  said  of  me — no  word  that  might  make 
you  believe  me  guilty  of  what  they  report  of  me  ?  " 

Carroll  averted  his  head  and  slightly  colored  ;  his  tender 
heart  would  not  inflict  upon  his  visitor  the  pain  which  he  felt 
•  direct  avowal  of  what  Father  Meagher  had  attempted  to  say 
might  do. 

Carter  divined  the  cause  of  the  hesitation.  "  Nay,  tell  me, 
Carroll — tell  me  frankly  ;  it  will  not  be  a  pain  the  more,  for  I 
am  so  hardened  by  past  blows." 

44  Father  Meagher  attempted  to  say  something,  and  I,  sus- 
pecting from  what  you  had  previously  told  me  what  its  im- 
port might  be,  prevented  him  by  saying  that  I  knew  what  he 
would  speak,  and  I  begged  him  to  spare  me  the  recital.  How 
he  interpreted  my  entreaty  I  know  not,  but  all  left  me  with- 
out saying  a  word  more  upon  the  subject*' 

That  information  quite  elated  Mr.  Carter ;  he  recovered 


CARROLL'S  TRUST  IN  CARTER.  ,7? 

entirely  his  spirits,  and  burst  out  at  once  with  the  object  of 
his  visit :  "  My  plan  for  your  release  is  now  complete  ;  a 
heavy  bribe  has  secured  two  of  the  wardens,  and  on  the  sec- 
ond night  from  this,  one  hour  after  midnight,  you  will  find 
every  lock  unfastened  between  you  and  the  jail  yard  ;  the 
wall  of  that  you  will  have  to  scale,  but  friends  will  be  in  wait- 
ing on  the  outside  with  a  rope  to  throw  to  you  ;  and  once  that 
you  are  safe  without  the  prison  wall,  a  close-covered  vehicle 
will  bear  you  quickly  to  Hurley's,  where  the  boys  have  been 
waiting  for  weeks  past  for  an  opportunity  to  row  you  out  to 
sea;  afterward,  to  get  you  safely  to  America  will  be  easy 
work." 

"  Oh,  Morty,  how  can  I  thank  you  !  you  give  me  hope,  you 
give  me  life  again  !  "  In  his  grateful  enthusiasm  the  young 
man  would  have  pressed  his  lips  to  Carter's  hand. 

"  Pshaw  !  "  ejaculated  the  latter,  drawing  back,  and  feigning 
to  brush  sudden  tears  from  his  eyes.  "  You  will  have  the 
nerve  for  the  venture,  Carroll — will  you  not  ? " 

"  The  nerve  !  with  life,  liberty,  and,  above  all,  Nora  McCar- 
thy as  the  goal — what  man  would  not  feel  as  if  he  had  super- 
human nerve  for  such  an  aim  ?  " 

"  Be  on  the  alert  at  the  hour  appointed,"  Carter  said  at 
parting,  while  he  wrung  Carroll's  hand. 

"  I  shall,"  the  young  man  responded  cheerfully ;  "  the 
stake  is  worth  all  the  risks." 

The  cell  door  opened  and  closed,  and  the  prisoner  was 
again  alone  ;  but  this  time  such  renewed  hope  and  courage 
animated  him  that  his  dreary  abode  seemed  to  have  lost  much 
of  its  gloom  and  irksomeaes*. 


CHAPTER  XXXIH 

FATHER   AND   DAUGHTER. 

A  STRANGELY- ASSORTED  couple  were  hastening  in  the  direc« 
tion  of  Hoolahan's  tavern — a  shambling,  ill-dressed,  rough- 
looking  man,  and  a  plainly,  but  tastefully  arrayed,  and  grace- 
ful female.  A  long,  dark  cloak  covered  her  entire  person, 
and  her  face  was  concealed  by  a  thick  veil ;  but,  though  so 
disguised,  the  queenly  poise  of  her  slender  form,  and  the 
grace  of  her  modest  bearing,  were  in  such  singular  and 
almost  painful  contrast  to  the  ill-favored  being  by  her  side, 
that  more  than  one  paused  to  look  after  the  pair.  As  they 
turned  into  the  entrance  of  the  inn  she  suddenly  grasped 
her  companion's  arm. 

"  Not  here  ;  surely,  not  here  !  "  Her  voice  quivered  with 
pain  and  terror. 

The  man  replied  in  a  low,  re-assuring  tone  :  "  Only  for  an 
hour  or  so,  Nora ;  I  must  see  the  party  who  promised  to  find 
us  a  home,  and  I  know  of  no  place  so  fit  to  have  you  wait  in 
as  this." 

She  was  silent,  seeming  to  resign  herself  without  further 
anxiety  to  his  care.  Many  wondering  looks  were  directed  to 
her  by  the  loungers  in  the  room  as  she  stood  for  a  moment 
alone,  while  her  companion  went  forward  and  spoke  to  some 
man  at  the  counter.  The  result  of  the  conference  seemed  to 
be  satisfactory,  for  Rick  returned  with  a  pleased  expression 
upon  his  face,  and  accompanied  by  the  man  to  whom  he  had 
spoken. 

"This  is  Mr.  Hoolahan,  Nora,  and  he  will  himself  see  that 
you  are  made  comfortable  until  I  come  back." 

"  Right  willingly,  miss,"  responded  the  good-natured  pro- 


FATHER  AND  DAUGHTER.  ,79 

prietor,  who  had  not  yet  recovered  from  the  amazement  into 
which  he  had  been  thrown  by  Rick's  private  announcement 
that  the  lady  by  whom  he  was  accompanied  was  his  daughter ; 
and  something  about  her,  though  veiled,  and  covered  as  she 
was,  impelled  him  to  put  as  great  a  deference  in  his  manner 
as  if  he  were  addressing  one  of  the  first  ladies  of  his  native 
place.  He  continued  :  "  I  will  show  you  to  a  room  where 
you  can  rest  after  your  journey — I  understand  you  have  come 
a  little  distance  on  the  car, — and  I  shall  see  that  some  refresh- 
ment is  sent  to  you." 

Nora  bowed,  and  the  gentle  courtesy  impressed  Mr.  Hoola- 
han  more  strangely  than  before.  He  assigned  her  the  best 
guest-chamber  in  the  house,  and  thither  he  invited  Rick,  in 
order  to  assure  the  latter  that  it  contained  every  appurtenance 
for  his  daughter's  comfort.  It  was  a  prettier  room  than  the 
exterior  of  the  building  seemed  to  warrant,  and  its  bright  car- 
pet and  freshly  done-up  muslin  curtains  looked  inviting  to  the 
tired  and  anxious  young  traveler. 

"  It  will  do,"  said  Rick,  quietly,  his  shrewdness  prompting 
him  to  conceal  his  pleasure,  for  it  was  not  often  the  poor 
creature's  eyes  rested  on  so  pretty  a  sight ;  but,  by  hiding  his 
unusual  satisfaction,  he  might  cause  Mr.  Hoolahan  to  think 
that  his  guest  had  not  always  been  the  ill-looking,  wretched- 
clad  being  that  he  now  appeared.  "  You  do  not  mind,  Nora 
— you  are  not  very  unhappy  ?  "  Rick  hurriedly  whispered  on 
the  threshold,  while  Mr.  Hoolahan,  with  instinctive  politeness, 
withdrew. 

Nora  raised  her  veil.  "  Father  !  "  The  effort  which  it  still 
cost  her  to  say  the  word  was  manifested  by  the  fiery  color 
that  rushed  to  her  face.  "  Are  not  our  fortunes  to  be  hence- 
forth together  ;  am  I  not  your  own,  your  only  child  ?  why 
should  I  be  unhappy  ?  " 

As  if  he  would  break  from  tones,  and  from  a  look  that  tor- 
tured him,  he  answered  hastily,  without  suffering  his  eyes  to 
meet  hers  :  "  I  shall  be  back  in  an  hour  ;  perhaps  in  less  time 
— good-by." 


,80  CARROLL  VDOXOGHVX. 

He  shambled  through  the  hall,  and  Nora,  who  could  not  yet 
trust  herself  to  look  after  him,  turned  quickly  into  her  room, 
and  closed  and  locked  the  door. 

With  hurried  gait  Rick  took  his  way  to  Mr.  Carter's  lodg- 
ings ;  that  gentleman  was  not  in,  however,  and  Rick  hastened 
to  every  haunt  that  seemed  to  offer  a  possibility  of  his  pres- 
ence. He  met  him  at  last,  coming  from  the  barracks,  his 
smile  and  self-complacent  air  showing  his  inward  good  hu- 
mor. His  face  darkened  for  a  moment,  however,  as  his  eyes 
fell  upon  Rick,  and  the  latter  said  with  a  scowl :  "  You 
need'nt  be  afeerd — there's  nothing  in  my  being  here  to  cause 
you  alarm.  The  business  is  settled  so  far  that " — his  voice 
gulped  for  an  instant — "  she's  here,  and  I  have  come  for  your 
further  orders." 

"  Hush  !  "  said  Carter,  casting  a  hurried,  half-frightened 
look  about  him  ;  "  tell  me  no  more  till  we  reach  my  room- 
there  we  shall  be  safe  ;  and  don't  keep  so  close  to  me,  Rick  ; 
fall  a  little  behind,  so  that  people  won't  know  we're  together." 

Rick  obeyed  the  injunction,  but  it  was  with  a  dogged  air 
and  a  muttered  :  "  He's  ashamed  to  be  seen  in  my  com- 
pany ;  but  she's  not — and  I — oh,  God  !  that  I  was  done  with 
it  all ! " 

Arrived  in  Carter's  room,  the  door  of  which  that  gentleman 
locked  securely,  he  turned  in  a  violently  excited  manner  to  his 
companion.  "  Do  you  mean  that  Nora  McCarthy  is  here — in 
Tralee  ? " 

"  I  do  ! "  there  was  a  fierce  energy  in  the  voice  of  the 
speaker  ;  **  I  mean  that  she  is  here  now  in  a  room  at  Hoola- 
han's.  I  mean  that  she  acknowledged  me,  when  Father 
Meagher  confirmed  what  I  told  her  ;  she  acknowledged  me, 
and  declared  her  intention  to  do  her  duty  by  me  in  the  face 
of  the  priest's  opposition,  in  the  face  of  Miss  O'Donoghue's 
tears  and  entreaties,  and  in  the  face  of  my  own  counsel  to 
her  to  remain  with  the  friends  who  had  been  more  to  her  than 
father  or  mother ;  she  braved  it  all.  And  when  Father 
Meagher  saw  that  nothing  would  move  her  from  her  duty,  he 


FATHER  AXD  DAUGHTER.  agx 

took  me  alone  to  talk  to  me.  He  begged  me  to  make  a.  home 
there  in  Dhrommacohol,  where  at  least  she  would  be  in  the 
midst  of  her  friends.  He  might  better  have  asked  me  to  put 
my  hand  in  the  fire,  and  not  take  it  out  till  it  was  burned  to 
the  bone.  He  asked  me  where  I  would  take  her,  and  I  was 
puzzled  for  an  answer  ;  for  mark  you,  Carter,  I  was  not  pre- 
pared to  have  her  fall  into  my  arms  as  easy  as  she  did — I  was 
not  prepared  to  meet  Father  Meagher  as  soon  as  I  did,  but  I 
had  no  power  to  resist  her,  when  she  said  in  her  quiet,  firm 
way  :  '  Come  home  with  me,  and  I  will  tell  Father  Meagher.' 
I  had  nerved  myself  to  meet  scorn,  and  galling  repugnance, 
and  bitter  denials  of  all  my  statements ;  but  I  had  not  pre- 
pared myself  for  the  courage  and  sacrifice  of  noble  Nora  Mc- 
Carthy !  " 

Carter  was  listening,  so  eager,  so  spell-bound,  that  the  per- 
spiration trickled  unheeded  down  his  face. 

Rick  continued  :  "  I  was  puzzled,  as  I  tell  you,  to  know 
what  to  answer  when  Father  Meagher  asked  me  where  I  would 
take  her,  and  at  last  I  said  Tralee — saying,  further,  that  I  had 
friends  here  who  would  help  me  at  the  least  to  make  a  de- 
cent home  for  her.  And  when  I  said  that,  oh  !  the  hard  way 
the  priest  looked  at  me  as  he  said  :  '  Rick,  it  is  your  strange 
lot  to  possess  in  Nora,  as  your  child,  a  gem  of  womanly  virtue  ; 
and  if  you  would  take  her  from  her  present  secure  shelter  to 
expose  her  in  the  vicious  haunts  which  you  frequent,  or  if 
you  would  allow  her  pure  eyes  to  be  sullied  by  one  glimpse  of 
the  low  company  with  whom  you  associate,  God  will  as  surely 
blast  you  as  that  He  exists  ! '  I'll  never  forget  his  words, 
Carter,  they  were  burned  in  my  brain  ;  and  sometimes  I  have 
started  with  the  ringing  of  them  in  my  ears.  I  swore  to  him 
that  he  need  have  no  fear :  was  she  not  my  child  ?  and  lei  my 
own  guilt  be  what  it  might,  could  the  father's  heart  within  me 
expose  her  to  any  harm  ?  He  seemed  satisfied,  and  when  I 
proposed  that  she  should  remain  a  week  longer  as  she  was, 
thinking  in  the  meantime  to  see  you  and  have  you  arrange 
matters  for  us,  he  seemed  better  pleased.  But  the  next  morn- 


282  CARROLL  VDONOQHUS. 

ing,  when  that  decision  was  told  to  Nora,  she  would  hart 
none  of  it ;  she  would  come  with  me  immediately  ;  whether 
it  was  that  the  shame  of  being  my  child  made  her  anxious  to 
leave  at  once,  or  the  dread  of  the  parting  being  harder  at  the 
end  of  another  week  than  it  would  be  then,  I  know  not,  but 
she  carried  her  way.  Father  Meagher  would  have  given 
me  other  clothes  than  these,  and  he  would  have  put  money  in 
my  pocket,  but  I  refused  both.  They  would  have  burned  my 
soul  had  I  taken  them,  so  I  came  away  as  I  am.  I  couldn't 
look  at  the  parting — I  couldn't  look  at  the  way  the  two  girls 
clung  to  each  other  ;  the  first  sight  of  it  was  breaking  my 
heart,  and  I  stopped  my  ears  to  shut  out  Miss  O'Donoghue's 
screams,  as  we  turned  out  of  the  little  gate,  Nora  and  me.  I 
would  have  walked  before  her,  I  would  have  sent  her  ahead 
I  would  have  done  anything  to  spare  her  the  pain  of  walking  be- 
side me  to  the  car.  I  might  as  well  have  told  the  sky  to  fall  : 
I  was  her  father,  and  wretched,  loathsome  beggar  as  I  was, 
she  would  not  abate  one  jot  of  what  she  deemed  to  be  her 
duty.  She  walked  beside  me,  Carter,  not  a  falter  in  her  step, 
and  not  a  quaver  in  her  tone  when  she  answered  the  greeting 
of  the  country  people  that  we  met.  They  looked  at  her — 
everybody  looked  at  her, — wondering  to  see  her  with  me,  be- 
cause the  news  hadn't  gone  abroad  yet ;  but  it  is  known  by 
this  time.  I  myself  told  it  at  Hoolahan's,  where  she's  waiting, 
and  Andy  Hoolahan  was  so  struck  with  surprise  when  I  told 
him  that  he  could  hardly  answer  me  when  I  asked  for  a  room 
where  she  could  rest  herself  till  my  return.  So  now,  Carter, 
my  dependence  is  on  you,  to  enable  me  to  keep  my  word  with 
Father  Meagher  ;  help  me  to  make  a  decent  home  for  her. 
The  priest  said  he  would  not  send  her  trunk  till  he  should  re- 
ceive a  letter  from  her  telling  him  where  and  how  she  was 
situated," 

Carter  still  only  stared,  mute  and  spell-bound. 

'*  Are  you  satisfied  ?  "  asked  Rick,  impatient  for  an  answer 
to  his  lengthy  story. 

Carter  roused  himself  and  wiped  his  face.    "  I  don't  know 


fATEER  AND  DAUGHTER.  ,83 

whether  to  be  or  not,"  he  replied,  like  one  awakening  from 
an  unpleasant  dream  :  "  The  affair  has  taken  a  different  turn 
from  what  I  expected — I  thought  you  would  have  managed 
so  as  to  offer  the  alternative  I  mentioned  ;  instead,  you  have 
brought  the  whole  to  a  climax  so  quickly  that  you  positively 
leave  me  no  alternative." 

Rick  burst  out  passionately  :  "  Have  you  no  regard,  man, 
for  my  feelings  in  this  transaction  ?  I  was  harrowed  to  the 
soul,  over  and  over,  till  I  could  have  fallen  on  my  knees  and 
asked  God  to  kill  me.  A  devil  out  of  hell  could  not  do  a 
crueler  thing — take  her  from  all  she  held  dearest  to  bind  her 
life  to  a  wretched,  outcast  beggar.  You  say  I  didn't  mention 
something  you  told  me-to  tell  her, — I  couldn't :  not  if  a  dozen 
bayonets  were  at  my  back  pricking  me  with  their  points,  and 
threatening  to  pierce  me  through  if  I  didn't  speak,  I  couldn't 
open  my  mouth  to  say  what  you  told  me — if  I  did,  I  felt  that 
I  should  have  been  scorned  like  a  worm  of  the  earth  as  I  am." 

Carter  had  begun  to  pace  the  room  ;  he  stopped  suddenly, 
and,  as  if  influenced  by  some  motive  of  prudence,  he  said  in 
a  calmer  and  more  conciliatory  tone  :  "  Very  well,  Rick  ;  I 
am  satisfied  ;  and  now  I  expect  a  piece  of  good  fortune,  which, 
should  it  happen,  will  make  your  reward,  Rick,  nearer  than 
even  I  thought  it  to  be." 

"  What  is  it  ? "  the  wretched  creature  was  eager  in  an  in- 
stant. 

"  It's  this," — Carter  brought  his  mouth  close  to  the  ear  of  his 
listener.  "  I  have  managed  a  plan  of  escape  for  Carroll 
O'Donoghue,  and  to-morrow,  an  hour  after  midnight,  some  of 
the  boys  from  Hurley's  will  wait  for  him  outside  the  jail  wall  ; 
he's  to  scale  that  by  means  of  the  ropes  they'll  throw  him,  and 
then  they're  to  drive  away  with  him." 

"  Well,"  responded  Rick,  "  and  what  then  ? " 

"Can't  you  penetrate  the  rest?"  demanded  Carter:  "it'a 
too  long  to  wait  for  his  hanging,  so  I  planned  this." 

A  look  of  keen  intelligence  shot  athwart  Rick's  features. 
u  May  be  it's  shot  you'd  have  him  in  the  attempt  to  escape  ?  H 


,84  CARROLL  VDONOGHUK 

Carter  nodded.  Rick's  head  vibrated  also  with  the  fuH 
and  rather  startling  comprehension  which  had  dawned  upon 
him.  "  And  once  he's  completely  out  of  the  way,"  Carter 
resumed,  "  the  rest  will  be  easy  game.  And  now,  Rick,  here'i 
money  for  your  purpose" — he  drew  out  a  couple  of  bank- 
notes ;  "  Mrs.  Murphy,  at  the  end  of  street,  will  let  you 

have  rooms  in  her  house  ;  it's  comfortable  and  respectable, 
and  I've  no  doubt  but  that  you  and  your  daughter  will  be 
very  happy." 

There  was  a  slight  mocking  emphasis  on  the  whole  of  the 
last  sentence  ;  it  was  not  lost  upon  Rick,  but  he  did  not  pre- 
tend to  notice  it,  only  pocketed  the  money,  saying  carelessly  : 
"  You  have  no  further  business  of  me  now  ? " 

"  No,  Rick,  none  now ;  none  till  this  affair  of  Carroll's  is 
over." 

The  door  closed  upon  the  shambling  visitor,  and  Carter 
locked  it  and  turned  to  pace  the  floor  and  to  indulge  in  one 
of  his  wonted  passionate  soliloquies  : 

"  The  courage  and  sacrifice  of  noble  Nora  McCarthy  !  "  he 
repeated  ;  "  yes,  it  is  all  very  well  now  while  her  enthusiasm, 
and  the  opportunity  she  has  for  a  heroic  display  of  virtue, 
together  with  the  novelty  of  the  affair,  sustain  her ;  but  I'll 
wait  awhile — I'll  wait  till  the  constant  deprivation  of  those 
comforts  and  luxuries  to  which  she  has  been  accustomed  begin 
to  tell  upon  her  ;  I'll  wait  till  absence  from  all  congenial  so- 
ciety wears  upon  her ;  I'll  wait  till  the  disregard,  and  worse 
than  that,  the  disgrace  which  will  attach  to  her  as  the  daughter 
of  that  outcast,  Rick  of  the  Hills,  eats  into  her  soul,  and  then 
will  be  my  time."  His  eyes  kindled  with  vindictive  triumph. 
"  I  shall  not  approach  her  before  ;  Rick  need  not  fear  that  I 
shall  disturb  their  happy  home  " — he  laughed  in  mockery — 
"  nor  intrude  myself  upon  her  leisure  hours  ;  oh,  no  !  I  shall 
not  cross  her  path  till  my  time  comes,  and  then,  when  Carroll 
O'Donoghue  shall  have  been  shot,  or  hung,  I  care  not  which, 
and  she  is  herself  stripped  of  everything  to  which  her  heart 
clung,  perhaps  then  she  will  not  so  scornfully  refuse  to  be- 


FATHER  AND  DAUGHTER 


185 


come  my  wife.  Oh,  Heavens  !  "  he  continued,  walking  with 
more  rapid  strides,  and  speaking  through  his  clinched  teeth  ; 
"  that  I  could  crush  her  till  her  very  misery  would  force  her 
to  accept  my  aid — that  I  could  see  her  lying  in  the  dust,  so 
that  her  very  abjectness  would  leave  her  powerless  to  repel 
me  !  I  care  not  what  she  becomes,  so  that  she  is  humbled 
into  becoming  my  wife !  " 

And  thus  giving  vent  to  the  passions  which  ceaselessly 
gnawed  his  miserable  heart,  and  striding  as  he  talked,  he  con- 
tinued till  the  fading  sunlight  warned  him  of  the  waning  day, 
and  roused  him  to  a  remembrance  of  other  a&d  wKtre  im- 
portant buaiaeaa. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

RICK'S  DISCOVERY. 

THE  hour  which  Rick  had  named  to  Nora  as  the  extent  of 
his  absence  had  lengthened  itself  to  two,  and  she  had  begun 
to  be  somewhat  anxious  for  his  return.  She  felt  so  strange, 
so  desolate,  so  forlorn,  as  if  only  then,  when  left  for  the  first 
time  quite  alone  in  a  strange  place,  that  the  full  force  of  the 
sacrifice  which  she  had  made  rushed  upon  her.  She  could 
hear  the  sound  of  voices,  and  the  clink  of  glasses,  and  the 
tramping  of  feet  below,  and  from  the  windows  of  the  apart- 
ment, did  she  choose  to  give  more  than  her  first  passing 
glance,  she  might  have  witnessed  the  noisy  confusion  of  street 
traffic  ;  but  all  only  served  to  remind  her  more  bitterly  of  the 
quiet  home,  and  lovely  country  surroundings  which  she  had 
lost.  She  threw  herself  upon  the  bed  to  endeavor  to  sleep,  for 
her  eyes  had  scarcely  closed  the  night  before  ;  but  the  ex- 
cited tenor  of  her  thoughts  drove  all  tendency  to  repose  away, 
and  at  length,  having  forced  herself  to  partake  of  the  inviting 
little  repast  which  kind  Andy  Hoolahan  had  dispatched  to  her 
room,  she  sat  down  and  yielded  herself  to  a  crowd  of  wild 
and  melancholy  thoughts. 

She  was  aroused  at  last  by  Rick's  return,  and  a  faint  smile 
somewhat  brightened  her  features  when  he  announced  that  he 
had  secured  their  home.  She  departed  with  him,  heavily 
veiled  as  she  had  been  on  her  entrance,  and  giving  to  Andy 
Hoolahan,  as  she  passed  out,  the  same  gentle,  well-bred 
courtesy  which  had  so  charmed  him  before.  They  turned  into 
one  of  the  cross  streets  of  the  town,  and  suddenly  there  sprung 
from  an  open  doorway  of  one  of  the  old  houses  they  were 
passing  Shaun,  who  never  forgot  a  friend ;  he  jumped  about 


RICK'S  D18COVEET.  ,87 

Nora  with  every  sign  of  extravagant  delight.  Her  heart 
bounded  with  joy  ;  the  sight  of  the  sagacious  animal  so  close- 
ly connected,  through  his  faithful  master,  with  him  who  held 
her  dearest  affections,  was  like  a  gleam  of  sunshine  to  one 
who  had  been  kept  long  in  the  dark,  and  she  put  out  both 
hands  to  caress  the  dog,  feeling  that  his  master  must  be  some- 
where near.  She  was  right.  Tighe  appeared  in  a  moment, 
emerging  from  the  hall  of  the  house  in  which  was  situated 
Corny  OToole's  bachelor  apartment.  He  jumped  back  at 
least  a  pace  with  astonishment  when  he  recognized  Nora. 
She  had  thrown  up  her  veil,  and  now  stood  with  hand  ex- 
tended to  Tighe  a  Vohr. 

"  I  couldn't  belave  me  siven  sinses  that  it  was  you,  Miss 
McCarthy  !  "  he  said  half  apologetically,  and  venturing  to 
clasp  her  hand  gently  for  a  moment,  while  his  eyes  turned 
with  new  wonder  to  her  companion.  "  And  Rick  o'  the  Hills  !  " 
he  continued  ;  "  it  bates  me  comprehinsion  intoirely  ;  what  in 
the  world  are  ye  both  doin'  here  in  Tralee,  an'  where's  the 
rist  o'  thirn — Father  Meagher  an*  Miss  O'Donoghue  ?  sure 
you  wouldn't  be  thravelin'  widout  thim  !  " 

"  Yes,  Tighe,  for  I  am  no  longer  Nora  McCarthy,  but  Nora 
Sullivan  ;  and  this  is  my  father."  She  drew  Rick  forward  as 
she  spoke.  He  held  his  head  down  and  seemed  unwilling  to 
respond  to  her  effort  to  draw  him  to  Tighe,  while  her  sudden 
color  was  the  only  sign  of  her  own  emotion. 

Tighe  a  Vohr's  eyes  became  so  large  that  they  seemed  to 
have  grown  to  twice  their  size  ;  even  his  mouth  was  partially 
open  to  express  his  astonishment,  and  his  whole  face  and 
attitude  were  so  ludicrously  indicative  of  terrified  wonder, 
that  under  other  circumstances  Nora  could  not  have  refrained 
from  laughing  ;  now,  however,  her  heart  was  too  full  of  sor- 
row. "  Rick  o'  the  Hills  yer  father  ! "  he  repeated  ;  "  faith 
the  world  must  be  turning  upside  down  ! "  and  he  actually 
looked  about  him,  as  if  expecting  to  see  the  sky  coming  down- 
ward, and  the  earth  upheaving  beneath  his  feet.  "Does 
Father  Meagher  know  ?  "  he  asked,  after  a  moment's  pause, 


,83  CARROLL  VDONOGHUB. 

during  which  he  dubiously  viewed  Rick ;  "  an'  does  Mist 
O'Donoghue,  an'  the  young  masther ? " 

"All,"  interrupted  Nora,  quickly,  "all  except  Carroll." 
The  sudden  anguish  in  her  voice,  telling  as  it  did  how  much 
it  cost  her  to  utter  that  name,  caused  even  Rick  to  glance  fur- 
tively at  her,  and  somehow,  inexplicable  to  himself,  the  expres- 
sion in  her  face  smote  him  to  the  heart  :  perchance  it  revealed 
to  him  a  fact  which  previously  he  had  but  imperfectly  known, 
or  lightly  considered.  Nora  continued  :  "  Father  Meagher 
will  tell  him  when  he  sees  him." 

Tighe  turned  away  for  an  instant  ;  with  his  wonted  keen 
intuition  he  had  divined  the  case — the  bitter  sacrifice,  the 
noble  heart  of  the  unhappy  girl, — and  he  had  turned  to  hide 
his  emotion.  At  length  he  faced  Rick.  "  Let  me  say  a  word 
to  you.  The  world  has  niver  given  you  much  else  than  the 
could  shouldher — mebbe  if  it  did  different,  you  wouldn't  be 
the  poor  craythur  you  are.  I  always  thought  an*  said  that 
there  was  good  in  you  if  it  was  only  touched,  an'  I  belave  it 
shtill ;  how  an'  iver  God's  been  good  to  you,  to  give  you  an 
angel  loike  this,  an'  oh,  Rick,  be  good  to  her,  an'  be  careful 
o*  her,  an*  for  her  sake  lave  off  yer  hard  ways,  an'  yer  wan- 
dherin'  way  o'  livin'  !  " 

There  was  such  true,  homely  sympathy  in  the  tones,  and 
such  honest  kindness  in  the  clear,  earnest  eyes,  so  different 
from  many  of  the  tones  and  looks  the  poor  wretch  was  wont 
to  meet,  that  his  heart  was  suddenly  and  mysteriously  touched. 
He  caught  Tighe  a  Vohr's  extended  hand,  bowed  his  head 
over  it  a  moment,  and  when  he  released  it  and  turned  away, 
there  glistened  upon  it  a  large,  warm  tear. 

"  And  you,  Tighe,  what  are  you  doing  here  ? "  questioned 
Nora,  kindly,  as  Tighe  a  Vohr  was  about  to  depart. 

"  At  the  ould  thrade, — mesel'  an'  Shaun  gintleman's  sarvints 
to  Captain  Dennier  in  the  barracks."  And  shaking  hands 
with  them  both  he  departed,  turning  into  a  secluded  street 
that  he  might  have  a  chance  to  relieve  his  feelings  by  a  few 
remarks  to  his  faithful  companion.  "  The  loike  o'  that, 


RICE'S  DISCOVERT. 


,89 


Shaun,  bates  Bannagher,  an'  they  say  Bannagher  bate  the 
divil.  Rick  o'  the  Hills  her  father  !  sure  it's  enough  to  make 
a  man  shwear  the  moon  was  med  o'  grane  chase,  an*  the  woild 
was  hung  on  an  illiphant's  back,  to  belave  the  loike  o'  that ' 
faith,  I  can't  reconcile  mesel'  to  it  at  all — thim  two,  that  are 
as  onloike  ache  other  as  the  grizzly  bears  that  Tom  Connolly 
spakes  o'  havin*  seen  in  Amerikay,  an* "  Tighe  experi- 
enced his  usual  difficulty  in  finding  a  simile,  but  he  thought 
of  one  at  last :  "  an'  a  noightingale  ;  thim  two  to  be  such  close 
blood  relations.  Oh,  but  Providince  must  be  given  to  playin' 
divartin'  thricks  whin  He  does  the  loike  o'  that !  An'  the 
young  masther — it'll  break  his  heart  complately  ;  begorra,  I'm 
glad  I'm  not  the  one  that's  to  tell  him,  an'  I  hope  Father 
Meagher  will  have  sinse  enough  not  to  tell  him  ayther.  He 
has  enough  to  bear  widout  addin'  insult  to  injury  in  that 
way."  And  feeling  somewhat  relieved,  Tighe  turned  back 
into  the  more  crowded  thoroughfare,  in  order  to  pursue  his 
way  to  the  barracks. 

Rick  and  Nora  had  arrived  at  the  home  of  which  the  for- 
mer spoke — it  consisted  of  plainly  furnished,  but  comfortable, 
apartments  in  Mrs.  Murphy's  neat  little  two-story  house ;  and 
Mrs.  Murphy  herself,  stout  and  good-natured  looking,  was 
present  to  assure  Nora  that  she  should  want  for  nothing  in 
the  way  of  simple  comfort.  Nora  responded  to  the  assurance 
In  her  gentle,  winning  way,  at  the  same  time  kindly  signifying 
her  desire  to  be  left  alone  with  her  father. 

"  Do  you  like  it  ?  "  asked  Rick,  in  a  despondent  tone,  as  if 
he  knew  and  feared  what  her  answer  would  be.  She  surprised 
him  by  her  cheerful  reply. 

"  Certainly  I  do  ;  it  is  quiet  and  plain — just  what  I  should 
choose  ;  and  I  think  Father  Meagher  and  Clare  will  be 
well  pleased  when  I  describe  it  to  them." 

Already  she  had  doffed  her  cloak  and  bonnet,  and  was 
moving  in  her  graceful  way  through  the  apartments,  altering 
ihe  stiff  arrangement  of  the  simple  furniture,  and  giving  fresh 
ind  pretty  touches  to  the  few  ornaments,  consisting  of  at  cou- 


t90  CARROLL  VDONOQHUK 

pie  of  vases  containing  artificial  flowers,  on  the  mantel,  and 
a  pair  of  fancy  baskets  of  shells  pendent  in  the  windows. 
There  were  three  rooms — two  sleeping  chambers,  adjoining 
each  other,  and  opening  into  a  large  sitting-room.  The  fur- 
niture in  the  sleeping  apartments  was  as  plain  as  that  in  the 
outer  room,  but  it  was  spotlessly  clean,  and  Nora  returned 
from  it  quite  satisfied.  Rick  sat  gazing  at  her  with  a  sort  of 
stupid  wonder  ;  her  beautiful  presence,  his  comfortable  sur- 
roundings, the  thought  that  they  were  all  his,  was  like  a  dream, 
and  he  dreaded  some  rough  awakening  ;  he  would  not  disturb 
it  by  a  motion,  so  he  sat  and  gazed. 

"  It  will  do  nicely,"  she  continued  ;  "and  after  a  little,  when 
I  have  learned  to  earn  more  than  will  suffice  for  our  support, 
perhaps  we  shall  have  prettier  furniture." 

The  rude  and  sudden  awakening  had  come.  Her  words 
sent  a  thrill  through  the  form  of  the  miserable  listener.  "  For 
our  support !  "  he  repeated,  rousing  himself  to  an  erect  atti- 
tude ;  "  do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  would  work  to  support 
me  ?" 

"  Why  not  ? "  She  came  and  sat  beside  him  ;  "  are  you  not 
my  father  ?  and  you  are  old  and  worn  ;  you  are  too  weak  to 
labor ;  I  told  you  I  would  repay  your  affection,  and  I  shall 
keep  my  word.  I  am  not  to  be  outdone  by  your  love  for  me 
through  all  those  years,  and  if  I  am  not  permitted  to  give  you 
affection  for  the  length  of  time  that  you  bestowed  it  upon  me, 
at  least  I  shall  try  to  make  up  for  it  by  the  intensity  of  my 
filial  regard." 

She  had  learned  control  at  last ;  all  Rick's  penetrating  gaze 
could  not  discover  a  trace  of  the  agony  with  which  her  heart 
was  torn  as  she  spoke.  Rick  arose  ;  he  could  no  longer  en- 
dure his  own  wild  emotions,  and  he  paced  the  room  with 
downcast  head  and  moody  face.  Nora  watched  him  ;  she 
had  even  learned  that  hard  task,  and  she  gulped  down  with  a 
prayer  every  feeling  of  aversion  which  rose,  as  her  eyes  rested 
upon  the  wretched-looking  being  whom  she  called  father. 
His  mental  distress  appeared  to  increase  ;  the  contortion  of 


RICK'S  DISCOVERT. 


291 


his  features,  the  clinching  of  his  hands,  painfully  indicated  it 
She  went  to  his  side,  and  put  her  hand  on  his  arm.  He  shook 
it  off,  and  started  back  as  if  her  touch  had  stung  him.  Then 
seeing  her  affrighted  look,  he  approached  her  and  strove  to 
soften  his  manner.  "  Nora,  never,  while  the  same  roof  shel- 
ters us,  attempt  to  touch  me  again — it  is  worse  than  the  sear- 
ing of  a  red-hot  iron,  for  I  am  too  guilty  a  creature  for  your 
pure  hands  to  rest  upon  ! "  She  shrunk  from  his  wild  eyes, 
and  he  continued  his  moody  walk.  Suddenly  he  stopped, 
asking  :  "  Is  there  an  engagement  between  you  and  young 
O'Donoghue  ? " 

She  colored,  and  a  lump  in  her  throat  prevented  her  answer 
for  a  moment.  "  There  was." 

"  There  w as  1 "  he  repeated  ;  "  is  it  broken  ?  which  of  you 
broke  it  ? " 

She  did  not  reply — the  words  which  she  wanted  to  say 
would  not  rise  beyond  her  throat  ;  she  could  only  look,  but 
that  look  told  Rick  of  the  Hills  sufficient. 

He  said  slowly  :  "  You  have  broken  it,  because  I  am  your 
father." 

She  turned  away,  and  he  pressed  her  no  more. 

"  I  am  going  out,"  he  said,  when  he  had  taken  a  few  more 
turns  of  the  room  ;  "  Mrs.  Murphy  will  get  you  anything  you 
want ;  and  don't  mind  if  I  do  not  get  back  for  an  hour  or 
two." 

She  could  easily  obey  his  injunction  not  to  mind,  now  that 
she  was  in  a  quiet,  secluded  home,  temporary  though  it  might 
prove  to  be  ;  and,  alas  for  all  her  heroism  !  his  absence,  re- 
coiling from  him  as  she  did,  was  a  relief.  She  employed  the 
time  in  writing  to  Father  Meagher  and  Clare  as  bright  and 
cheerful  an  account  as  she  could  find  it  in  her  heart  to  give, 
while  Rick  was  on  his  hasty  way  to  the  barracks. 

"  A  man  to  see  me  !  "  repeated  Tighe,  wonderingly,  and  look- 
ing at  the  bearer  of  the  message  with  a  puzzled  air ;  "  what 
koind  o'  a  luk  has  he  ?  " 

"  Faix,  an  ill  luk  enough,"  was  the  reply,  "  wid  a  gait  loike 
a  wounded  eame  cock." 


I9j  CARROLL  VDONOGHUK 

"  That  must  be  Rick  o'  the  Hills  !  what  in  the  world  is  hi 
doin'  here  an*  wantin*  to  see  me  ?  how  an'  iver,  I'll  soon 
know."  He  hurried  to  the  waiting-room. 

It  was  Rick  of  the  Hills.  "  I  came  here  for  the  purpose  of 
saying  a  secret  word  to  you,"  he  said,  rising  on  Tighe's  ap- 
proach, and  speaking  in  a  whisper.  Tighe  looked  about  him, 
then  led  the  way  to  a  smaller  and  unoccupied  apartment. 
"  Will  you  keep  what  I  am  going  to  tell  you,  and  use  it  as  u 
you  got  it  from  another  source  ;  will  you  promise,  no  matter 
what  comes,  that  you'll  never  betray  me,  Tighe  ? "  And 
Rick  looked  appealingly  into  the  wondering  eyes  bent  upon 
him. 

"Cartinly,  I'll  kape  whativer  it  is  you're  goin'  to  tell  me, 
as  sacred, — well,  as  sacred  as  the  priest'd  kape  yer  confis- 
sion  ! " 

Rick  put  his  mouth  to  Tighe's  ear  :  "  To-night,  between 
twelve  and  one  o'clock,  there  is  to  be  an  attempt  made  to  free 
Carroll  O'Donoghue — some  of  the  boys  from  Hurley's  are  to 
be  outside  the  jail  wall  with  a  rope  ;  this  will  be  thrown  over 
into  the  yard  to  Carroll,  and  by  it  he  is  to  scale  the  wall ;  if 
it  is  in  your  power,  do  you  get  word  to  him  not  to  leave  his 
cell — not  to  make  the  attempt  to  escape  ;  if  he  should,  he  will 
be  either  a  corpse,  or  he  will  be  seized  again.  Do  you  under- 
stand, Tighe  ?  " 

"  I  do,"  was  Tighe  a  Vohr's  response,  while  a  look  of  keen 
intelligence  suddenly  lit  his  face.  "  I  do,"  he  repeated  ;  "  an1 
I  thank  you,  Rick,  for  this  good  turn.  I'll  not  forgit  it  for 
you,  nor  shall  the  masther,  if  iver  he  has  his  own  agin." 

"  You'll  never  betray  who  gave  you  this  information  ?  " 

"  Bethray  /    I'&  sooner  tear  me  tongue  out  be  the  roots  ! " 

Rick  was  satisfied,  and  with  a  brief  adieu  he  departed. 
Tighe  hurriedly  sought  Garfield. 

"  Misther  Garfield,  you  gev  me  permission  to  luk  upon  you 
as  a  thrue  frind  ;  didn't  you  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  Mr.  Carmody  ;  why  do  you  ask  ? " 

"  Bekaise  I've  come  to  put  yer  frindship  to  the  thriaL     You 


BIGS' S  DISCOVERT.  ,93 

doi.e  a  great  favor  for  me  once,  an'  I'm  about  to  ax  another 
o'  the  same  koind  now.  Can  you,  be  any  manes  at  all,  man- 
age to  shmuggle  or  stale  me  into  the  jail  yard  to-noight,  so 
that  I'll  be  there  be  the  toime  the  clock  stroikes  twelve  ?  moind 
you,  it's  no  trayson  I'm  afther — it's  no  relase  o'  a  prisoner  I'm 
plottin* ;  it's  only  a  little  innocint  business  o'  me  own.  Will 
you  do  that  for  me,  Mr.  Garfield  ?" 

The  quartermaster  paused.  "  Well,  Mr.  Carmody,"  he  an- 
swered at  length,  "  I  think  I  can  arrange  it  for  you.  You 
might  go  on  a  friendly  visit  this  evening  to  Ned  Sutton,  the 
warden,  the  same  who  managed  the  business  before,  when  that 
secret  visit  was  paid  to  the  prisoner,  O'Donoghue,  and  he 
could  hide  you  somewhere  in  the  vicinity  of  the  yard  till  the 
hour  appointed." 

Tighe  could  scarcely  find  words  to  express  his  gratitude  ; 
in  his  extreme  ardor  he  would  have  made  some  promise  in 
the  name  of  the  Widow  Moore,  but  fear  of  saying  something 
too  wide  of  the  mark,  or  too  ridiculous  to  bear  a  semblance 
of  truth,  checked  him. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

CARTER   FOILED. 

"  IT'S  a  foine  garmint  intoirely  !" 

The  compliment  was  addressed  to  Captain  Dennier's  cloak, 
and  it  came  from  the  lips  of  Tighe  a  Vohr.  He  took  it  down 
from  its  place  on  a  temporary  rack,  shook  out  its  ample 
folds,  incased  his  own  person  within  it,  and  strode  about  the 
room  with  evident  pleasure.  It  was  large  enough  to  cover 
Tighe's  whole  person,  the  officer  being  a  much  taller  man, 
and  Tighe  a  Vohr  folded  it  about  him  with  intense  satisfac- 
tion. The  material  was  black  cloth,  but  it  was  hardly  as 
heavy  as  its  somber  look  would  seem  to  imply,  and  Tighe  was 
all  the  better  pleased  that  it  was  entirely  devoid  of  decora- 
tion. He  took  it  off  at  last,  and  gave  it  fresh,  critical  inspec- 
tion, the  result  of  the  latter  being  announced  in  a  low-toned 
soliloquy  : 

"  Somehow,  it's  a  very  dun  color,  an'  I  think  it's  spotted  in 
various  places  " — though  at  the  same  time,  to  Tighe's  disap- 
pointment, his  eyes  were  telling  him  that  the  cloak  was  as 
black  and  as  free  from  stains  as  it  could  well  be.  "  Yis,"  he 
continued,  "it's  me  bounder  juty  to  see  afther  me  masther's 
property,  an"  it'd  be  a  cryin'  sin  to  let  a  foine  garnunt  loikt 
that  go  to  ruin  for  the  want  o'  a  little  touchin'  up.  Now, 
there's  Sandy  Be /el  as  foine  a  hand  at  clanin'  thim  things  as 
there's  to  be  had  in  the  four  counties, — he'll  do  it  for  a  thi  ifie, 
an'  as  he's  in  a  disthressful  way,  it'd  be  a  charity  to  get 
the  bit  o'  work  for  him  ;  besoides,  on  me  way  to  Sandy's  wid 
it,  I  nadn't  schruple  to  use  it  a  little  while  for  me  own  con- 
rani  ence." 

He  awaited  impatiently  Captain  Dennier's  coming,  and  the 
(294) 


CARTER  FOILED.  295 

officer  was  hardly  well  within  the  room  when  Tighe  confronted 
him  with  the  cloak  on  his  arm,  at  the  same  time  bursting  into 
so  ridiculous  and  lengthy  an  account  of  the  condition  of  the 
garment,  and  the  anxiety  it  caused  him  when  he  realized  that 
morning  for  the  first  time  his  grave  responsibility  regarding 
his  master's  wardrobe,  that  the  latter  burst  into  a  heartier 
laugh  than  had  passed  his  lips  for  weeks. 

"  When  did  you  discover  all  this  ? "  he  asked,  when  his  mirth 
had  subsided. 

Tighe  answered  :  "  Awhile  ago,  whin  I  gev  the  things  be- 
longin'  to  you  a  more  careful  luk  than  usual ;  an'  me  heart 
got  sorrowful  whin  I  kem  to  this,  to  see  it  spilin'  the  way  it 
is  ;  " — slightly  shaking  the  garment  as  it  hung  on  his  arm  ; — 
"  you  see,  captain,  it  tuk  me  eye  intoirely,  be  rayson,  as  we 
say  here  in  Ireland,  o'  its  bein'  so  flohool, — that  manes  plinty 
— it's  so  loike  yersel',  yer  honor, — big  an'  bountiful ;  an' 
Sandy  Bevel'd  have  it  lukin'  loike  new  in  no  toime." 

"  Really,  Tighe,  I  don't  see  anything  the  matter  with  the 
cloak  :  I  have  not  worn  it  so  much,  and  it  is  quite  good 
enough  ;  "  and  Captain  Dennier  took  it  from  Tighe,  much  to 
the  latter's  reluctance,  and  shook  out  its  ample  folds. 

"  Why,  beggin'  yer  pardon,  but  where's  yer  honor's  eyes — 
don't  you  see  the  patch  o"  brown  jist  beginnin'  to  come  out 
loike  a — loike  a  " — Tighe  experienced  his  usual  perplexity  for 
a  moment — "  loike  the  down  on  a  gandher's  back  ;  an'  don't 
you  see  a  shpot  there  where  the  rain  ketched  it  the  noight 
you  were  out  wid  Captain  Crawford  afore  he  wint  away  ;  an* 
don't  you  see  another  shpot  as  if  it  moight  be  wine  yer  honor 
spilled  ? "  Tighe's  finger,  moving  over  the  surface  of  the 
cloak,  was  keeping  time  to  the  rapidity  of  his  tongue  ;  "  an* 
don't  you  see " 

"  Stop  stop  !  "  interrupted  the  officer,  laughing  ;  "  I  declare 
I  see  nothing  of  what  you  are  so  earnestly  pointing  out,  but 
I  suppose  the  upshot  of  it  all  is  that  you  want  me  to  have  the 
clock  cleaned  by  this  friend  of  yours  ? " 

a  If  yer  honor'll  consint  to  that,  I'll  take  it  as  a  great  favor 


,96  CARROLL  VDONOQHU&. 

intoirely,  both  on  the  part  o*  me  frind,  an'  for  the  savin'  o1 
the  cloak  itself." 

"  Very  well,  Tighe,  do  as  you  choose." 

"An'  moight  I  make  bould  to  ax  another  favor  ?"  Tighe 
was  salaaming  very  profoundly. 

The  officer  waited  with  an  amused  smile  to  hear  the  boon. 

"  I'm  invoited  to  spind  the  evenin'  wid  Mr.  Sutton,  one  o1 
the  wardens  in  the  jail,  an'  as  he's  to  have  a  few  f rinds,  it'll 
be  a  merry-makin'  I'm  thinkin',  so  I'd  loike  to  get  the  noight 
off,  yer  honor  ;  but  I'll  be  back  bright  an'  airly  in  the 
mornin'." 

Captain  Dennier  gave  the  permission,  and  Tighe,  having 
thanked  him  in  his  own  absurd,  though  eloquent  fashion, 
turned  away  to  his  duties  with  a  somewhat  lightened  heart. 

The  evening  arrived,  and  Tighe,  with  the  cloak  neatly  par- 
celed, went  in  search  of  Garfield  ;  the  latter  kindly  proffered 
to  accompany  Mr.  Carmody,  and  together  they  repaired  to 
.he  jail. 

Ned  Sutton,  being  himself  a  sociable  fellow,  had  many  of 
his  English  prejudices  dissipated  by  the  very  geniality  of  the 
Irish  with  whom  he  came  in  contact,  and  having  heard  of 
Tighe  a  Vohr's  clever  exploits,  he  was  pleased  to  accord  him  a 
very  warm  welcome.  He  conducted  his  guests  to  his  own 
little  private  apartment,  and  there,  over  cards  and  whisky, 
Tighe  proved  himself  the  most  enjoyable  boon  companion  it 
had  ever  been  Mr.  Button's  chance  to  meet.  "  I  declare,  Mr 
Carmody,"  he  said  more  than  once,  when  one  of  Tight'a 
humorous  stories  had  convulsed  him  with  laughter,  and  made 
the  tears  course  down  his  cheeks,  "  you  are  the  pleasantest 
fellow  I  have  ever  met,  and  I  am  happy  to  be  acquainted  with 
you." 

The  clock  struck  ten,  and  Garfield  reluctantly  rose  to 
depart. 

"  It's  too  devilish  bad,"  said  Sutton,"  that  you  must  go  ; 
but  I  don't  mind  so  much  since  I  shall  have  Mr.  Carmody'i 
company  another  hour  or  two.  You  say  he  can  stay  till 
twelve  ?  " 


CARTER  FOILED.  3p7 

"  Yes,  and  then "  Garfield  drew  Sutton  aside  and  told 

him  in  a  low  voice  of  Tighe's  request. 

"  You  couldn't  choose  a  better  night,"  responded  Sutton, 
who  was  too  much  under  the  influence  of  the  liquor  he  had 
imbibed,  and  too  favorably  impressed  by  Tighe  a  Vohr,  to 
care  to  pitch  his  voice  in  as  low  a  key  as  Garfield  had  used  ; 
consequently  Tighe  had  little  difficulty  in  hearing.  Sutton 
continued  :  "  A  strange  piece  of  business  has  been  going  on 
here  these  few  days  back — there's  hardly  a  warden  in  the 
place  that  isn't  bribed  by  a  man  they  call  Carter  "—Tighe's 
hearing  grew  painfully  acute  ;  it  seemed  as  if  the  words, 
though  they  were  only  spoken  in  an  ordinary  voice,  were 
shouted  in  his  ears — "  and,  what's  more,  there  won't  be  a  man 
on  duty  in  the  vicinity  of  the  jail  yard  to-night." 

"  What's  that  for  ?  "  asked  Garfield. 

"  That's  more  than  I'm  allowed  to  tell,"  replied  Sutton, 
"  and  it's  more  than  I  quite  understand  ;  but  you  see  that  it's 
enough  to  satisfy  you  how  easy  it  will  be  for  me  to  grant  your 
friend's  request." 

Garfield  had  a  dim  idea  that  there  was  premeditated  treason 
at  the  bottom  of  the  suspicious  information  just  volunteered, 
and  that  Sutton  himself  was  not  lightly  implicated  in  the 
bribery  of  which  he  spoke  ;  and  for  a  moment  the  usually 
slow-thinking  soldier  was  stirred  by  an  impulse  that  prompted 
him  to  warn  the  authorities  of  the  plot  which  might  be  hatch- 
ing under  their  very  eyes.  But  in  that  same  instant  he  thought 
of  Tighe's  strange  request  to  visit  the  jail  yard,  and  at  such 
an  unwonted  hour — might  not  Tighe  a  Vohr  himself  be  con- 
cerned in  this  mysterious  affair  ?  and  to  inform  upon  that 
would  be  perhaps  to  inform  upon  one  who  had  already  served 
him  well,  and  who  might  again,  from  his  extreme  wit  and 
shrewdness,  be  exceedingly  useful.  The  latter  thought  sufficed 
to  stifle  his  conscientious  scruples,  and  he  concluded  to  let 
affairs  take  their  own  turn.  Bidding  his  companions  good 
night,  he  took  a  hasty  departure. 

Jolly  Ned  Sutton,  and  the  no  less  jolly  Tighe  a  Vohr,  grew 


,98  CARROLL  ODONOQHUR 

more  convivial  and  more  communicative  ;  Tighe  pretended 
to  pour  the  strictest  of  confidences  into  the  ear  of  the  warden, 
and  the  latter  in  return,  the  more  intoxicated  he  became,  the 
more  freely  he  imparted  all  that  he  knew  of  Morty  Carter's 
transactions  with  the  jail  officials.  By  the  time  that  the  clock 
was  on  the  stroke  of  twelve  Tighe  a  Vohr  was  in  complete 
possession  of  every  thread  of  Carter's  web  of  treachery.  Sut- 
ton  just  retained  sobriety  enough  to  conduct  his  guest  to  a 
side  passage  leading  to  the  yard.  "  You  need  have  no  fear," 
he  said  in  his  drunken  whisper  :  "  there's  not  a  pair  of  eyes 
to  light  on  you,  nor  won't  be  for  a  half  hour  yet." 

The  night  was  dark  enough  to  throw  heavy  shadows  in 
corners,  but  beyond  the  latter  there  was  sufficient  light  to 
plainly  reveal  outlines,  and  Tighe's  rapid  but  careful  survey 
convinced  him  of  the  truth  of  Sutton's  statement.  He  longed 
to  venture  a  request  to  be  shown  to  Carroll's  cell,  imagining 
that  the  warden  was  in  a  sufficiently  maudlin  condition  to 
grant  the  favor  ;  but  something,  he  could  scarcely  explain  to 
himself  what,  checked  the  asking  of  the  boon,  the  words  of 
which  were  twice  upon  his  lips,  and  he  determined  to  trust  to 
•ome  other  favorable  accident.  Button  departed,  and  he  was 
alone.  Not  a  sound  could  be  heard,  not  a  shadow  crossed 
his  vision  save  those  that  obscured  the  angles  in  the  walls. 
He  softly  unwrapped  his  parcel,  and  shaking  out  Captain 
Dennier's  cloak,  folded  its  ample  proportions  about  his  per- 
son. Then  removing  his  hat,  he  bent  the  rim  in  such  a  way 
that  it  formed  an  excellent  cover  for  the  upper  pzrt  of  his 
face.  These  arrangements  satisfactorily  completed,  he  sta- 
tioned himself  against  a  part  of  the  wall  where  the  shadows 
2ay  deepest,  itanding  so  motionless  that  he  could  not  be  dis- 
tinguished from  the  dark  mass  of  stone  against  which  he 
leaned  ;  and  he  watched  and  listened. 

Minutes  passed  ;  they  were  like  hours  to  the  faithful  Tighe 
a  Vohr ;  he  fancied  he  could  hear  the  beatLig  of  his  own 
heart,  and  ghoul-like  forms  seemed  to  start  out  of  the  recesses 
into  which  he  sought  to  peer.  Then  alarming  suspicions  shot 


VARIES  FOILED.  agg 

Into  his  mind  : — what  if  Rick  of  the  Hills  was  playing  him 
false  ;  perhaps  throwing  him  upon  a  wrong  scent  in  order  to 
make  the  infamous  success  of  Carter  more  sure?  But  the 
remembrance  of  Button's  information  seemed  to  falsify  his 
fear,  and,  just  as  he  was  fiercely  arguing  down  his  doubts  and 
alarms,  there  was  the  slight  noise  of  a  carefully-opened  door 
directly  opposite  to  where  he  stood,  and  some  one  stepped 
quickly  and  noiselessly  forth.  Too  surely  Tighe  a  Vohr  rec- 
ognized that  lithe,  straight,  bareheaded  figure,  standing  in 
uncertainty  and  gazing  upon  every  side  of  it.  He  sprung  for- 
ward ;  Carroll  dso,  in  alarm  at  the  sudden  and  rapid  advance 
of  a  form  which  he  deemed  to  be  that  of  an  enemy,  sprung 
back,  and  then  recovering  his  presence  of  mind,  braced  him- 
self for  the  encounter. 

"  Masther  dear  !  don't  be  afeered — it's  only  mesel' — Tighe  a 
Vohr  !  "  and  Tighe  flung  back  enough  of  the  cloak  to  reveal 
his  person. 

"  Tighe,  my  faithful  fellow  !  "  and  young  O'Donoghue,  in 
the  ardor  of  his  joy,  could  not  be  content  with  a  pressure  of 
the  hand  ;  he  threw  his  arms  about  his  affectionate  follower, 
and  strained  him  to  his  breast. 

There  was  a  sudden  sound  ;  they  sprung  from  each  other's 
arms,  and  looked  up  to  behold  something  dark  falling  through 
the  air  down  almost  at  their  feet ;  it  was  a  rope.  Carroll 
hastened  toward  it,  but  Tighe  intercepted  him. 

"  Back  to  yer  cell,  masther  dear,  for  yer  loife  :  there's  a  plot 
afoot  to  capture  you  agin  ;  that's  why  I'm  here — to  purvint 
you  thryin'  to  eshcape  this  noight." 

"  Why,  Tighe,  do  you  think  I  would  disappoint  the  brave 
fellows  who  are  waiting  for  me  outside  ?  " 

"  Och,  masther  dear,  will  you  listen  to  rayson  this  once,  an' 
go  back  whin  I  tell  you — the  biggest  danger  you  iver  were  in 
is  afore  you  now  1  " 

"  No,  no,  Tighe,  I  must  at  least  make  the  attempt  ;  let  me 
go  " — as  Tighe  held  him, — "  see,  they  are  shifting  the  rope  " — 
as  the  coil  at  thx'ir  feet  began  to  move  ; — "  they  wonder  where 


3oo  CARROLL  VDONOGWjE. 

I  am.  And  I  must  make  this  venture,  if  only  out  of  gratitude 
to  him  who  so  nobly  planned  all  this." 

A  sudden  light  flashed  on  Tighe's  mind,  and  he  said  in  an 
agonized  whisper  :  "  Oh,  what'll  I  say  to  Mr.  Carther  at  all ! 
sure  didn't  he  lave  it  to  me  wits  entoirely  to  get  you  back  to 
yer  cell,  somehow  ?  He  discovered  that  his  plan  for  to-noight 
was  found  out ;  but  he  discovered  it  too  late  to  give  you  warn- 
in"  himsel',  so  his  last  depindince  was  on  me.  He  didn't 
mane  me  to  tell  you  all  I'm  sayin'  now,  for  some  rayson  o' 
his  own,  but  he  lift  it  to  mesel'  to  get  you  quietly  back  ;  sure 
I  thried,  an'  you  wouldn't  go  ;  but  mebbe,  now  that  you  un- 
dhersthand  it,  you'll  go  !  " 

A  light  suddenly  flashed  from  the  opposite  side  of  the 
jail.  Tighe  became  desperate  : 

"  Masther  dear,  will  you  go  ?  be  all  that  you  iver  held  sacred 
an'  howly,  go — go  afore  you  get  us  all  into  throuble  ,  the  b'ys 
outside'll  be  shot  afore  yer  eyes,  an'  Carther,  an'  the  whole  o' 
us  !  Go,  an'  I'll  climb  the  rope  to  thim." 

He  seized  it,  and  was  ready  to  swing  himself  aloft  Still 
Carroll  hesitated,  undecided,  and  puzzled. 

"  Fly,  masther  dear  !  "  wildly  urged  Tighe. 

"  Morty  Carter  directed  you  to  do  all  this  ? "  Carroll  said. 

"  Would  I  be  here  if  it  wasn't  for  his  doin's  ?  "  answered 
Tighe,  even  in  that  moment  of  anxiety  and  suspense  congratu- 
lating himself  on  the  truthfulness  of  his  reply. 

Carroll  turned  back  into  the  passage  from  which  he  had 
emerged,  and  Tighe  a  Vohr  clambered  up  the  rope  to  the  top 
of  the  wall,  from  whence,  having  secured  the  rope  round  a 
projection  of  the  parapet,  it  was  no  difficult  task  to  swing  him- 
self lightly  down.  He  was  received  with  silent  welcome  by 
four  of  "  the  boys," — the  general  term  for  those  who  were 
bound  m  that  secret  effort  for  liberty — ar.d  hurried  into  a  close- 
covered  vehicle  which  stood  in  waiting.  His  person  entirely 
covered  by  the  cloak,  and  his  hat  drawn  carefully  over  his 
face,  together  with  the  darkness,  effectually  concealed  his 
identity.  He  crouched  in  a  corner  of  the  vehicle,  and  imme 
diately  a  voice  called  tremblingly  forth  : 


CARTER  FOILED.  3<)I 

"  We  are  discovered  !  you  took  too  long  in  getting  him  over 
the  wall — they  are  after  us  !  Tell  Tim  to  drive  like  the  devil !  H 

The  supposed  prisoner  and  his  rescuers  were  all  within  the 
conveyance  huddled  together,  and  the  driver  whipped  up  the 
horses  and  dashed  for  the  suburbs  of  the  town.  But  it  was 
too  late  ;  mounted  guards  pursued  them,  followed  by  armed 
authorities.  On  dashed  the  vehicle,  on  raced  the  guards,  till 
a  pistol  shot  at  last  felled  one  of  the  beasts,  and  the  convey- 
ance, brought  to  a  sudden  halt,  was  surrounded. 

"  Don't  foight,  b'ys,"  said  Tighe,  feigning  huskiness,  that  his 
voice  might  not  be  recognized,  as  he  saw  his  companions  pre- 
paring to  make  a  desperate  resistance  ;  "  I'll  give  mesel'  up." 
Still  feigning  huskiness,  and  careful  to  allow  no  part  of  his 
muffler  to  reveal  his  person,  he  cried  to  the  first  guard  who, 
pistol  in  hand,  thrust  himself  into  the  vehicle  :  "  I  surrinder 
— I'll  go  back  pacable  !  " 

There  were  twenty  to  one  of  the  brave  rescuers,  so  that  re- 
sistance would  have  been  vain  ;  all  were  speedily  overpowered 
and  borne  in  triumph  back  to  the  jail.  Tighe  kept  his  cloak 
closely  folded  about  his  person,  and  his  head  bowed  low  on 
his  breast  ;  no  one  spoke  to  him,  as  if  his  very  captors,  ex- 
ultant though  they  were,  felt  a  sort  of  pity  for  his  unhappy 
situation.  Confusion  and  clamor  seemed  to  reign  within  a 
portion  of  the  prison,  and  where  a  short  while  before  all  was 
darkness,  numerous  lights  now  shone.  Tighe,  with  his  four 
companions,  was  hurried  into  an  official  apartment,  and  con- 
fronted with  the  violently  excited  and  indignant  governor  of 
the  jail,  who  stood  surrounded  by  his  assistant  officers.  Tighe 
a  Vohr's  disguise  was  torn  off,  and  there  was  revealed,  not 
the  golden-haired  prisoner  whom  all  had  expected  to  see,  but 
a  good-looking,  rosy-cheeked  fellow,  in  the  garb  of  a  valet. 
Amazement  paralyzed  everybody,  so  that  for  an  instant  the 
silence  was  appalling  ;  then  it  was  broken  by  an  oath  from 
some  one  in  Tighe's  rear — an  odd,  blasphemous  expression, 
which  Tighe  a  Vohr  recognized  as  one  that  was  peculiar  to  a 
certain  person.  He  turned  shortly,  and  met  the  wildly  dis 


joa  CARROLL 

tended  eyea  and  petrified  face  of  Morty  Carter,  who  formed 
one  of  a  group  of  spectators  standing  near  the  door  of  the 
apartment.  That  unexpected,  and  to  him  horrible,  vision  of 
Tighe  a  Vohr — for  an  instant  he  deemed  it  little  else — had 
thrown  him  completely  off  his  guard,  and  he  started  forward, 
and  uttered  the  oath  which  betrayed  his  presence.  Tighe 
turned  back  to  the  astounded,  and  still  more  violently  in- 
dignant  governor. 

"  Do  you  call  this  Chresthen  thratemint — to  have  an  inno- 
cint  man  dhragged  afore  you  in  this  way  ?  Wait  till  Captain 
Dennier  is  tould  o'  this  false  arrist,  an'  it's  coort-martialed 
he'll  have  the  whole  o'  ye  !  " 

Some  one  brought  a  hurried  message  to  the  governor ;  it 
had  the  effect  of  suddenly  quieting  him,  and  he  turned  to  one 
of  the  attendant  officers.  "What  strange  business  is  this? 
the  prisoner,  Carroll  O'Donoghue,  is  reported  as  being  safe  in 
his  cell." 

"  Now  hear  me,  yer  worship,"  demanded  Tighe,  "  an'  I'll 
explain  the  whole  matther ;  "  and  without  waiting  to  be  ac- 
corded the  permission,  he  burst  into  an  absurd  and  ludicrous 
account  in  which  Captain  Dennier's  cloak,  Ned  Sutton, 
whisky,  the  jail  yard,  and  a  rope  were  so  ridiculously  blended, 
that  many  of  the  officials  were  struggling  to  suppress  their 
laughter. 

"  Either  the  man  is  a  fool,  or  he  is  endeavoring  to  play  a 
very  clever  part !  "  said  the  governor  impatiently,  and  he  sig- 
naled to  some  of  the  parties  about  him  to  remove  the  five 
prisoners  ;  Tighe  found  himself  seized. 

"  Is  it  widout  a  hearin'  you'd  sintince  me  ?  "  he  cried,  strug- 
gling in  the  hands  of  his  captors,  and  suddenly  twisting  him- 
self  out  of  their  grasp.  Then  with  a  bound  he  flung  himself 
on  his  knees  before  the  governor.  "  Oh,  yer  worship,  jist 
sind  to  Captain  Dennier,  an'  he'll  shwear  on  the  howly  Bible 
that  it's  all  thrue  about  the  cloak,  an'  himsel',  an'  Ned  Sutton, 
-—he  knows  me  intoirely,  an'  he'll  tistify  to  me  characther. 
Plaze,  yer  honer,  sind  for  him,  an'  don't  let  me  be  thrated  thif 
wayl" 


CARTER  FOILED.  303 

Strong,  rough  hands  had  again  grasped  Tighe  a  Vohr,  and 
he  was  forced  to  his  feet  ;  but  he  continued  to  cry  : 

"  May  the  Lord  be  good  to  yer  sowl,  yer  honor,  an'  don't 
refuse  me  ! " 

"  In  the  morning,"  answered  the  governor,  impatiently, 
u  the  affair  shall  be  properly  investigated." 

So  Tighe  became  the  unwilling  inmate  of  the  jail  which 
held  his  beloved  young  master.  "  Begorra,"  he  said  softly  to 
himself  when  he  was  left  to  darkness  and  solitude,  "it's  a  fix 
I'm  in  now,  anyway  ;  an'  if  Captain  Dennier  doesn't  spake  a 
good  word  for  me,  I  dou't  know  what  I'll  do  at  all,  at  all  ! 
What  a  foine  thing  that  I  didn't  take  the  cloak  widout  his 
lave  !  faith,  if  I  did,  it's  turn  up  it  moight  on  me  thrial,  pur- 
vidin'  they  don't  hang  me  widout  judge  or  jury,  an'  thin 
mebbe  I'd  be  charged  wid  stalin",  the  loike  o'  which  disgrace 
was  niver  on  the  Carmody  name  yet.  An'  that  divil  o'  a  Car- 
ther — och,  but  it  does  me  heart  good  to  be  upsettin'  his  plans  ! 
He  has  the  masther  won  so  complately  that  if  I  didn't  tell  the 
lie  I  did — God  pardon  me  ! — I'd  niver  get  him  to  go  back  to 
his  cell.  It  flashed  on  me  all  o'  a  suddint  the  minit  he  said 
he'd  have  to  go  on  with  the  vinture  out  o'  grathitude  to  some 
one — ould  Carther  was  the  some  one,  an'  it's  well  I  undher- 
sthood  how  he'd  niver  be  willin'  to  go  back  if  he  didn't  think 
the  ordher  kem  sthraight  from  the  ould  sinner.  How  an'  ivcr, 
it's  me  they  have  for  this  noight's  work,  instead  o'  the  mas- 
ther, an'  faith  I'd  do  it  all  over  agin  for  the  sake  o'  bcholdin' 
Carther  as  he  luked  whin  I  turned  an'  faced  him  awhile  ago. 
I  wondher,  now,  if  it  remoinded  him  o'  Tighc's  swatcheart ! " 
and  Tighe  a  Vohr  had  some  difficulty  in  restraining  himself 
from  laughing  aloud.  At  last  slumber  sealed  his  eyes,  and  he 
did  not  awake  till  he  was  aroused  by  the  warden  in  the  morn- 
ing. 


CHAPTER  XXXVL 

TIGHE   EXPLAINS   TO   CAPTAIN   DENJTIER. 

CAPTAIN  DENNIER  was  surprised  by  an  early  message  from 
the  governor  of  the  jail,  and  still  more  surprised  when  he 
found  that  it  had  sole  reference  to  his  valet.  He  hastened  to 
the  prison,  and  had  a  somewhat  lengthy  private  conference 
with  the  governor. 

"  I  do  not  know  what  to  make  of  his  story,"  continued  the 
latter  functionary,  when  he  had  told  such  portions  of  his 
ridiculous  tale  as  he  could  remember  ;  "  but  the  four  men  who 
were  captured  with  him  disclaim  all  knowledge  of  him — they 
utterly  deny  that  he  had  any  part  with  them." 

"  Let  me  see  him,"  said  the  officer ;  "  perhaps  I  shall  be 
able  to  make  something  of  his  statement." 

The  governor  led  the  way,  preceding  Captain  Dennier  into 
his  cell. 

The  faithful  fellow  had  been  pacing  the  stone  floor,  his  face 
expressing  the  perplexed  character  of  his  thoughts.  He  start- 
ed slightly  when  he  saw  the  governor,  then  catching  sight  of 
the  military  figure  just  behind,  he  gave  a  scream  of  delight 
and  bounded  forward.  "  Oh,  captain  dear,  I  knew  you'd 
come  !  sure  I'm  killed  intoirely !  they  sazed  me  on  false  pur- 
tinses,  an'  they  dhragged  me  here,  an  innocint  man  !  " 

"  Tell  me  about  it,  Tighe,"  said  the  captain  ;  "  tell  me  as 
simply  and  briefly  as  you  can." 

"  I  will,  yer  honor — sure,  what  else'd  I  do  but  tell  a  simple 
shtory  ? "  and  Tighe  feigned  to  be  too  much  overcome  by 
emotion  to  be  able  to  proceed  for  a  moment.  "  I  kem  to 
shpind  the  evenin'  wid  Mr.  Button  here  in  the  jail,  as  yer  hon- 
or gev  me  lave  to  do,  if  you  remimber,  an'  I  tuk  yer  cloak  in 
ordhei  to  lave  it  wid  Sandy  Bevel  in  the  mornin'  afore  I'd  go 


TIQHB  EXPLAINS  TO  CAPTAIN  DSJiJflES.       ,05 

kome  ;  but  we  tuk  a  dhrop  too  m«ch.  Mr.  Sutton  an'  rnesd*,  an* 
we  were  overcome.  I  axed  him  to  let  me  out,  an*  begorra  it 
was  to  the  jail  yard  he  tuk  me,  lavin1  me  there  alone ;  it 
was  no  use  thryin'  to  foind  me  w»y  back,  for  the  dures  were 
all  shut  agin  me,  an'  not  a  turnkay,  nor  the  shadow  o'  any  one 
that'd  help  me,  could  I  see.  All  o'  a  suddint  somethin'  shot 
through  the  air  an'  fell  jist  at  me  fate  ;  I  luked  down  an'  found  it 
was  a  rope ;  it  kem  from  the  outside  o'  the  wall,  where  the  other 
ind  o'  it  seemed  shtill  fastened,  an*  afther  considerin'  awhile, 
an' not  seein'  any  one  nor  hearin' another  sound,  Imed  up  me 
moind  to  thry  what  was  inlt.  The  aisiest  way  o'  carryin*  yer  hon- 
or's cloak  was  to  put  it  on  mesel', — beggin'  yer  pardon  for  the 
great  liberty  I  tuk — thin  I  scaled  the  wall  to  foind  mesel',  whin 
I  dhropped  down  on  the  other  side,  taken  for  somebody  else.  I 
thried  to  tell  who  I  was,  an'  to  beg  thim  to  let  me  go,  but  the 
darkness  o'  the  noight,  an'  the  excitemint,  an'  the  hurry  they 
were  in,  wouldn't  let  thim  listen  to  me.  Thin,  whin  I  found 
mesel'  dhrove  off,  an'  the  police  an'  the  soldiers  tearin'  afther 
us,  I  was  frightened  out  o'  my  sinses,  an'  I  jist  called  out  that 
I'd  surrinder  pacable.  There,  yer  honor,  is  me  sthory,  an'  if 
you'll  only  get  me  relase,  I'll  shwear  to  you  on  me  two  binded 
knees  that  I'll  niver  ax  to  shpind  another  evenin'  wid  any  one." 

Captain  Dennier  seemed  inclined  to  believe  the  tale,  not 
because  he  was  impressed  by  its  truthfulness,  but  because  of 
Tighe's  well-acted  part  of  distress.  "  Well,  well,  my  poor  fel- 
low," he  said  re-assuringly,  "  be  patient,  and  we  shall  see  what 
can  be  done  for  you." 

a  I  will,  yer  honor,  for  it's  well  I  know  I  can  thrust  to  yer 
promise  !  "  and  Tighe  courtesied  almost  to  the  ground. 

Captain  Dennier  and  the  governor  left  the  cell,  both  in  low 
and  earnest  conversation  ;  and  the  prisoner,  (though  unable 
to  distinguish  a  word  of  the  whispered  sounds  which  reached 
him  as  the  two,  arm  in  arm,  passed  out)  with  his  wonted  shrewd- 
ness augured  favorably  from  the  very  fact  of  that  whispered 
conversation  ;  and  he  was  hardly  surprised  when,  a  couple  ot 
hours  later,  his  cell  door  was  thrown  open,  and  he  was  per- 
mitted to  oass  forth  a  free 


CHAPTER  XXXVIL 

THE   TRIAL. 

THE  day  arrived  on  which  was  to  take  place  the  trial  of  the 
unfortunate  men  who  had  been  captured  in  the  attack  on  the 
barracks,  and  intense  excitement  thrilled  every  heart,  and 
manifested  itself  in  every  face.  For  days  before  the  numer- 
ous friends  of  the  unhappy  prisoners  swarmed  the  town,  and 
cheeks  blanched,  and  lips  trembled,  as  the  probable  result  was 
ominously  conjectured.  Still,  an  unusual  confidence  was  felt 
in  the  able  counsel  who  had  volunteered  to  defend  the  accused, 
and  that  enthusiasm  which  sometimes  fires  the  most  timid  now 
sustained  hearts  that  perhaps  on  the  disastrous  completion  of 
the  trial  would  sink  at  once  into  grief  and  despair.  It  had 
been  the  topic  of  every  household,  and  the  animated  subject 
of  every  street  gathering  ;  old  and  young,  the  stern  sex  and 
the  fair,  were  equally  exercised  ;  and  while  wild  and  improb- 
able stories  of  the  number,  organization,  and  plans  of  those 
who  would  make  an  Irish  Republic  were  circulated, — tales 
calculated  to  make  the  timorous  shudder,  and  the  determined 
upholders  of  English  law  more  resolute  to  maintain  their 
principles  and  their  government — there  was  at  the  same  time 
an  under-current  of  ardent  sympathy  inundating  hearts  that 
had  no  other  bond  with  the  poor  captives  than  that  evoked 
by  commiseration  for  their  youth  and  their  unhappy  plight 

On  the  morning  of  the  trial  the  court-room  was  crowded 
long  before  the  hour  appointed  for  the  appearance  of  the  pris- 
oners. Fair  ladies,  many  of  whom  never  before  had  stepped 
within  the  precincts  of  a  court  of  law,  crowded  the  galleries, 
and  leaned  forward  with  the  glow  and  the  restlessness  of 
ardent  expectation ;  stern-browed  and  fierce-eyed  men  min- 
(306) 


THE  TRIAL.  307 

gled  with  the  crowd  that  surged  and  pressed  in  the  space 
without  the  prisoner's  dock,  and  more  than  one  pallid  face 
told,  by  its  wild  and  suffering  expression,  how  life  and  death 
hung  in  the  balance  of  the  approaching  trial.  Soldiers  and 
civilians,  bailiffs  and  barristers,  policemen  and  prison  war- 
dens, mingled  indiscriminately,  and  the  elite  of  the  town  had 
little  barrier  between  them  and  the  very  beggars,  some  of 
whom  had  early  forced  their  way  to  desirable  places.  The 
fair  Widow  Moore  occupied  a  prominent  position  in  one  of 
the  galleries,  her  beauty.,  and  graceful  air  of  self-possession 
dimming  the  good  looks  of  her  fair  companions  ;  and  Gar- 
field,  as  was  his  wont  on  all  occasions  when  the  widow  ap- 
peared, stationed  himself  where  his  eyes  could  constantly  rest 
upon  her.  Tighe  a  Vohr  was  early  there,  awaiting  develop- 
ments which  might  have  some  bearing  on  his  master's  case  ; 
and  Morty  Carter,  flushed  and  perspiring,  from  the  effect  of 
his  corpulence  and  the  narrow  space  into  which  he  was  wedged, 
was  also  present,  and  apparently  in  excellent  spirits.  Tighe 
watched  him,  dodging  behind  taller  men  than  himself  when 
he  was  in  danger  of  being  seen  by  Morty,  and  mentally  won- 
dering what  could  be  the  cause  of  the  latter's  evident  self- 
complacency.  Rick  of  the  Hills  stood  on  the  outskirts  of 
the  crowd,  frequently  rising  to  his  toes,  and  sweeping  with  a 
rapid  look  of  his  deep-set  eyes  the  whole  of  the  crowded  court- 
room. 

The  prisoners  were  ushered  in — six  in  number,  all  young, 
and  types  of  a  higher  class  than  the  Irish  peasantry.  Con- 
finement and  anxiety  had  made  them  pale  and  thin,  and  two 
stooped  slightly,  as  if  from  the  inroads  of  some  fatal  disease ; 
but  there  was  a  fearlessness  about  the  mien  of  each,  a  prompt- 
ness in  their  step,  and  a  clear,  unflinching  look  that  betokened 
nobleness  of  purpose  and  unfaltering  courage. 

After  the  jury  had  been  impaneled  and  sworn  in,  the  trial 
was  opened  by  the  reading  of  the  indictment  against  the  pris- 
oners. They  were  charged  under  the  treason-felony  act  for 
the  planning  and  the  execution  of  the  attack  on  the  barracks ; 


3o8  CARROLL  (TDONOGHUB. 

the  counsel  for  the  crown  first  stated  their  case,  and  called 
evidence  in  proof.  Then  the  counsel  for  the  defense  arose. 
Calm,  slow,  but  with  a  vigor  and  an  eloquence  which  increased 
with  every  word,  he  described  the  wrongs  of  the  poor  wretches 
for  whom  he  pleaded — wrongs  which  had  their  first  bitter 
origin  in  the  oppression  that  made  Ireland  little  better  than 
the  charnel-house  of  her  native  people  ;  in  language  that  drew 
tears  from  sterner  eyes  than  are  given  to  weeping,  he  depicted 
the  sufferings  of  the  accused — the  impulse,  born  of  despair, 
which  drove  them  to  their  last  frantic  stroke  for  that  liberty 
which  is  the  innate  heritage  of  each  of  God's  creatures. 

"  Look,"  he  said,  turning  and  pointing  with  a  masterly  ges- 
ture to  the  prisoners,  "  at  those  pallid  faces,  where  Suffering 
has  left  her  mark,  and  those  attenuated  forms,  on  which  Want 
has  laid  her  bony  hand  !  Remember  the  youth  of  the  ac- 
cused, and  the  feelings  which  must  accompany  such  a  youth, 
oppressed,  enslaved  as  it  was,  and  then  ask  yourselves,  gentle- 
men of  the  jury,  what  heart  could  have  withstood  the  tempta- 
tion to  slrike  that  blow  which,  if  successful,  promised  at  least 
an  amelioration  of  their  condition.  There  is  no  proof,"  he 
continued,  turning  back  to  his  first  position,  that  the  youth- 
ful prisoners  at  the  bar  were  the  leaders  in  this  attack  on  the 
barracks  ;  there  is  no  proof  that  they  were  even  connected 
with  this  Irish  Republic  organization  prior  to  this  attack  ; 
but  there  is  proof  that  they  were  influenced  by  older  men 
than  themselves,  that  they  were  hurried  into  the  act  for  which 
they  now  stand  accused  by  the  impulsive  and  unthinking  ardct 
of  sudden  feeling.  This  then,  gentlemen,  is  their  first  offense 
— if,  indeed,  it  can  be  called  such,  being  utterly  unpremedi- 
tated,— and  the  court  will  deal  lightly,  for  the  sake  of  that 
justice  which  is  her  noble  prerogative,  and  her  rightful  boast." 

He  sat  down,  and  witnesses  were  called  for  the  defense. 
Then  one  of  the  counsel  for  the  prosecution  arose,  and  in  a 
masterly  manner  spoke  in  reply  to  the  defense  set  up  ;  one  by 
one  defenses  which  seemed  to  have  been  firmly  established 
were  ruthlessly  demolished,  facts  were  presented  in  a  dam* 


THE  TRIAL.  3O0 

aging  light,  and  the  whole  structure  of  the  evidence  so  skill- 
fully  brought  forward  in  favor  of  the  prisoners  seemed  to  be 
swept  completely  away.  Still  there  was  hope  :  there  was  not 
sufficient  proof  to  sustain  the  blackest  aspect  of  the  case,  and 
wildly  anxious  hearts  beat  a  little  more  hopefully  as  he  added, 
after  a  stern  and  telling  reiteration  of  the  guilt  of  the  pris- 
oners :  "  One  link  alone  is  wanting  in  the  evidence — the  arri- 
val of  a  certain  paper  which  it  is  reported  would  substantiate 
every  charge  against  the  accused.  For  some  unaccountable 
reason  it  is  not  here." 

He  paused  as  if  to  take  breath,  and  Tighe  stole  a  look  at 
Carter  ;  the  latter  was  staring  at  the  counsel  as  if  he  thought 
that  gentleman,  or  himself,  or  possibly  both  together,  had 
gone  suddenly  mad.  At  that  instant  one  of  the  clerks  of  the 
court  entered  in  great  haste  and  put  a  small  packet  before 
the  speaker.  He  glanced  at  the  superscription  without  lifting 
it,  his  face  kindling  with  pleasure.  Then  he  said  : 

"The  paper  of  which  I  spoke  has  just  arrived  ;  it's  com- 
ing is  most  opportune,  and  now  it  is  in  my  power  to  prove  be- 
yond the  possibility  of  doubt  the  guilt  of  the  prisoners."  He 
broke  the  seal,  and  whether  in  the  haste  of  his  triumph,  or 
because  of  his  perfect  confidence  in  the  supposed  contents  of 
the  paper,  he  did  not  even  glance  his  eye  over  it  before  he 
read  it  aloud — not  even  pausing  when  the  first  ridiculous 
words  had  passed  his  lips,  as  if  he  thought  they  might  be  only 
some  absurd  preliminary  to  the  information  which  he  would 
certainly  reach  further  on.  With  the  same  sonorous  ring  that 
had  characterized  his  voice  from  the  beginning,  he  electrified 
the  whole  assembled  court  by  reading  : 

" '  DARLING,  CHARMING  MISTRESS  MOORE  : 

You  have  been  the 

light  of  my  eyes  since  I  met  you,  and  the  pulse  of  my  heart. 
Without  any  animadversion,  I  may  say  that  in  all  the  circumlo- 
cutions of  poetry  and  logic  there  is  nothing  so  supereminently 
perfect  found  on  the  face  of  the  globe  as  the  charming  Widow 
Moore.  The  beaming  light  of  the  sun  grows  dark  when  you 
are  not  in  my  presence,  and  the  circumlocutions  of  my  palpi- 


3,0  CARROLL  VDONOGHUK 

tating  heart  no  longer  go  on  when  your  smile  is  not  before  me. 
Like  a  rose  that  kisses  the  morning  dew,  and  a  bee  that  sipi 
from  the  fairest  flower,  consider  me,  darling,  charming  Mis- 
tress Moore, 

Your  undivided  and  undividable  lover, 

WILLIAM  H.  GARFIELD, 
of  her  Majesty's Reg't.'" 

There  was  a  scream  from  the  gallery,  and  immediately  after 
the  wildest  commotion  existed  about  the  Widow  Moore,  who 
had  fainted  in  the  arms  of  one  of  her  companions  ;  at  the 
same  time  a  shout  of  laughter,  so  hearty  and  prolonged  that 
it  seemed  to  shake  the  building,  burst  from  every  throat  save 
those  of  Garfield  and  Carter.  The  former,  when  the  full 
comprehension  of  the  ludicrous,  but  to  him  disastrous  inci- 
dent, broke  upon  his  mind,  darted  one  glance  of  agony  in  the 
direction  of  the  insensible  widow,  swore  wildly,  and  dashed 
from  the  court-room,  elbowing  his  way  so  fiercely  that  the 
crowd  fell  back  in  some  trepidation  before  him.  Carter  raged 
and  cursed  so  loudly  and  so  profoundly  that  the  people  in  his 
immediate  vicinity,  who  were  all  in  convulsions  of  laughter, 
began  to  think  he  had  gone  suddenly  mad.  He  felt  that  he 
should  indeed  become  speedily  insane  if  he  remained  another 
moment  within  hearing  of  that  mirth,  and  he  too  forced  his 
way  out,  while  judge  and  jury,  lawyers  and  officers,  soldiers 
and  civilians,  laughed  till  the  tears  mingled  with  the  perspira- 
tion which  coursed  down  their  faces.  It  was  a  scene  of  the 
merriest  uproar  ;  in  vain  the  clerk  called  for  order — people 
were  yet  too  vividly  impressed  with  the  ridiculous  document 
just  read,  and  for  which  so  much  had  been  boastingly  prom- 
ised,  and  no  sooner  was  quiet  partially  restored  than  some 
burst  from  another  part  of  the  room  would  renew  the  whole 
mirthful  explosion.  It  was  impossible  to  proceed,  and  the 
court  adjourned. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIIL 

CARTER    DELUDED. 

TIGHI  A  VOHR,  with  Shaun  at  his  heels,  was  pursuing  his 
rapid  way  to  Corny  O'Toole's  abode.  Frequently,  however, 
he  slackened  his  pace,  as  "some  sudden  and  pertinent  thought 
gave  him  the  occasion  for  a  pithy  remark ;  and  when  at 
length  he  stood  within  the  little  bachelor  apartment,  it  was  to 
cut  such  capers  in  his  delight — throwing  up  his  hat  and  exe- 
cuting fancy  steps  which  surpassed  Corny's  accomplishment 
as  a  dancer — as  so  astonished  Mr.  O'Toole  that  he  could  not 
find  voice  to  ask  an  explanation  ;  and  Shaun  seemed  equally 
surprised  and  puzzled  by  his  master's  strange  conduct.  "  Wait 
till  I  tell  you,"  said  Tighe  at  last,  when  he  had  thrown  up  his 
heels  in  a  final  extraordinary  caper,  and  flung  himself  into  a 
chair.  "  It's  the  natest  piece  o*  work  you  iver  heerd  tell  av, 
Corny  ;  it  bates  iverything  !  Oh,  but  I  was  the  sorry  man 
that  you  weren't  to  the  fore  yestherday  in  the  coort ! " 

"  I  couldn't  go,  Tighe,"  answered  Mr.  O'Toole  ruefully  ; 
"  I  had  Mrs.  McGilligan's  letter  to  her  landlord  to  write,  and 
I  had  a  proposal  of  marriage  to  compose  for  Shaun  Carberry  : 
he  wanted  to  make  an  offer  of  himself  to  Judy  McGerrity, 
and  as  I  knew  she'd  be  coming  for  me  to  write  an  answer  of 
acceptance,  I  thought  I'd  do  the  whole  at  once.  So  I  have 
Judy's  letter  here  waiting  for  her,  and  it's  as  fine  a  piece  of 
composition  as  ever  I  wrote,  Tighe." 

"  No  doubt  o'  it,  Corny  ;  you  know  me  mother  used  to  say 
that  she  tuk  great  pleasure  in  hearin'  one  o'  yer  illigint  letthers 
read — there  was  such  divarsion  in  thim.  But  listen,  Corny, 
while  I  tell  you  about  yestherday — faith,  it  bates  intoirely  the 
row  they  had  the  othei  noight,  whin  they  found  it  was  mesel' 


Jia  CARROLL  &DONOGHUK 

that  had  eshcaped  from  the  jail  instead  o*  the  young  masthei. 
You  moind  all  about  that,  Corny,  an'  how  I  tould  you  ould 
Carther  luked  whin  they  pulled  the  cloak  off  me,  an'  lift  me 
fell  in  his  soight  ? " 

"  I  do,  Tighe  !  "  and  the  little  man  chuckled  gleefully  at  the 
remembrance. 

'*  Begorrt,  thin,"  resumed  Tighe  a  Vohr,  "  if  the  ould  vil- 
lain luked  loike  one  madman  that  noight,  he  luked  loike 
tin  madmin  yestherday  ! "  and  thereupon  Tighe  gave,  in  his 
own  graphic  and  comical  way,  a  full  account  of  the  proceed- 
ings which  had  terminated  so  ludicrously  in  the  court  on  the 
previous  day,  continuing :  "  Whin  that  letther  was  read, 
Corny,  faith  you'd  think  ould  Gartner's  eyes  were  jumpin'  out 
o'  their  sockets  wid  the  surprise  an'  the  rage  he  was  in  ;  an* 
if  you  seen  him  tearin'  through  the  crowd  to  get  out, — him- 
sel'  an'  Garfield,  only  Garfield  was  afore  him — an'  iverybody 
around  thim  holdin'  their  sides  an'  shoutin'  wid  the  laughther, 
you'd  niver  forgit  it  as  long  as  yer  name'd  be  Corny  O'Toole. 
It  was  viry  divartin'  to  mesel',  Corny,  an'  I  laughed  wid  the 
rist  o1  thim  till  all  at  once  I  thought  o'  the  throuble  I'd  soon 
be  in, — sure  it  would  be  all  up  wid  mesel'  an'  Garfield  now, 
an'  I  expected  nothin'  liss  than  that  he'd  be  waitin'  to  shoot 
me.  Faix,  Corny,  I  was  frightened,  an'  I  begun  to  think  o' 
puttin'  me  sowl  in  ordher  ;  thin  Carther  kern  to  me  moind— 
sure  there  was  no  tellin'  what  that  ould  sinner'd  be  up  to. 
Mebbe  it's  go  to  Captain  Dennier  he  would,  to  demand 
sathisfaction  for  the  docymint  he  gev  him — the  docymint  that 
the  Widdy  Moore's  letther  tuk  the  place  av  !  "  here  Tighe 
chuckled,  and  Corny,  equally  relishing  the  laughable  hoax 
which  had  been  perpetrated  in  the  exchange  of  papers, 
chuckled  also ,  Tighe  resumed  :  "  Mebbe  I'm  suspected  be 
Carther  for  havin'  a  hand  in  this  thing,  for  there's  no  knowin' 
what  the  ould  sandy-haired  villain'd  think  o' ;  sure  I  was 
afeerd  he'd  be  afther  me  on  account  o'  the  way  the  eshcape 
wint  the  other  noight ;  but  how  an'  iver  that  was,  he  niver 
ihowed  himsel'  in  me  soight,  an'  that's  bad,  Corny,  for  whin 


CARTER  DELUDED.  3,3 

ould  Carther  kapes  himsel'  quiet,  an*  out  o*  soight  loike  that, 
you  may  be  sure  that  he's  plottin'  somethin'  wid  his  partner, 
the  other  divil  below  !  "  and  Tighe's  finger  pointed  significant- 
ly downward. 

"  But  how  about  Garfield  ? "  demanded  Corny,  as  deeply 
interested  as  was  Tighe  himself. 

"  Oh,  sure,  I  was  forgittin'  the  bist  o'  the  joke  :  Garfield's 
desarted — fled  the  counthry  intoirely,  they  say.  Jack  Moore, 
the  widdy's  brother,  was  waitin'  for  him  to  shoot  him  down  ; 
an'  I  guiss  the  poor  omadhaun  o'  a  quarthermasther  got  wind 
o'  that,  for  they  say  he  only  waited  long  enough  to  buy  a  dis- 
guise, whin  he  quitted  a  counthry  where  he  had  such  bad  luck 
wid  his  love-letthers.  His  name  is  the  spoort  o'  iverybody, 
an'  the  divil  a  bit,  Corny,  but  you'll  hear  the  soldiers  an* 
the  officers  repatin'  portions  o'  the  letther,  an'  thin  twistin1 
thimsel's  wid  the  laughther  about  it.  Didn't  I  hear  Captain 
Dennier  himsel'  last  noight,  whin  he  had  a  couple  o'  officers 
in  his  room,  laughin'  as  if  his  heart  would  break  whin  one  o' 
thim  was  goin'  through  the  whole  thing,  an'  thryin'  to  remim- 
ber  the  exact  contints  o'  the  letther  ?  An*  the  Widdy  Moore 
— oh,  Corny,  but  she'll  niver  hould  her  head  so  high  agin  • 
they  say  she's  goin'  out  o'  the  counthry  intoirely,  wid  the 
shame  she's  in." 

"  That's  too  bad,"  said  Corny  ;  "  she  was  a  fine,  full  woman, 
with  a  very  dashing  way  of  her  own  !  " 

"  Yis,"  echoed  Tighe  ;  "  but  it's  an  ill  wind  that  blows  no- 
body good — sure  that  letther,  now,  that  was  the  disgracin'  o1 
her,  mebbe  it  would  be  the  savin'  o'  thim  poor  fellows  that'i 
on  their  thrial ;  they  say  there  isn't  proof  enough  agin  thim, 
onless  the  paper  is  got  that  the  letther  tuk  the  place  av,  an' 
faith  they'll  be  a  long  toime  huntin'  till  they  foind  that  pa- 
per !  " 

Again  he  chuckled,  and  Corny,  as  before,  chuckled  with 
him. 

"  But  I  must  be  movin',"  resumed  Tighe,  rising,  "  for  the 
captain'll  be  wantin'  me  ;  "  and  whistling  to  Shaun,  who,  hav- 


SI4  CAR30LL 

ing  ensconced  himsclr  ir  a  comer  cf  Comy's  bed.  now  at  his 
master's  signal  thrust  his  head  comically  fcrth  between  the 
curtains,  as  if  to  be  certain  of  the  call  before  he  quite  disturbed 
himself. 

Corny  also  rose,  and  opening  the  drawer  of  a  little  table, 
took  from  its  disordered  contents  a  carefully-wrapped  packet. 
Proffering  it  to  Tighe,  he  said  with  great  earnestness  :  "  Mr 
Carmody,  permit  me  to  intrust  to  your  care  a  letter  that  J 
have  written  to  your  mother." 

Tighe's  face  assumed  a  most  ludicrous  expression  of  sur- 
prise and  perplexity.  "  A  letther  to  me  mother,  Corny — what's 
in  it  ? " 

"  The  expression  of  my  honorable  sentiments,  Tighe  ;  the 
revelation  of  my  honest  feelings — feelings  that  burned  in  my 
heart  when  Timothy  Carmody  stepped  in  before  me  and  carried 
the  day  by  offering  himself  before  I  had  a  chance  to  compose 
the  proposal  of  marriage  it  was  my  intention  to  make  to  her." 

"  Oh  ! "  ejaculated  Tighe,  prolonging  the  monosyllable  and 
giving  a  ludicrous  twist  to  his  face.  "  Thin  you  changed  yer 
moind,  Corny,  about  lavin'  her  affections  in  the  grave  o'  her 
husband  ?  faith,  I  think " 

"  No,"  interrupted  Mr.  O'Toole,  warmly  ;  "  no,  Mr.  Car- 
mody, I  have  no  intention  of  disturbing  her  widowed  affec- 
tions, provided  she  still  desires  to  leave  them  in  the  grave  of  her 
lamented  husband  ;  but  in  case  she  is  not  averse  to  withdraw- 
ing them,  that  " — pointing  to  the  packet  which  Tighe  had 
taken — "  will  tell  her  where  she  can  deposit  her  delicate  sen- 
timents to  the  greatest  advantage  ;  it  will  tell  her  " — Corny 
swelled  and  flushed  with  the  tremulous  glow  of  his  over- 
wrought feelings — "  that  there  is  one  heart,  sir,  that  never 
ceased  to  beat  with  the  deepest  veneration  and  the  most  pro- 
found regard  whenever  the  name  of  Mollie  Carmody  was 
mentioned." 

Tighe  turned  aside  on  a  pretense  of  looking  for  Shaun,  but 
really  to  conceal  the  mirth  with  which  he  was  inwardly  con- 
vulscd,  at  the  same  time  saying  within  himself  ;  "  Who  ivej 


CARTER  DELUDED. 


315 


thought  o*  me  mother  turnin'  a  fellow's  brain  that  way  ?** 
When  his  face  had  recovered  its  wonted  expression,  he  turned 
back  to  Corny.  "  I'm  loth  to  take  this,  Corny,  for  there's  no 
tellin'  whin  I'd  be  in  Dhrommacohol  agin — I  don't  loike  to  ax 
the  captain  to  be  lettin'  me  away  too  often, — so  you'd  betther 
kape  it  awhile  ;  or  sure  you  could  sind  it  be  the  mail." 

"  I  could,  Mr.  Carmody,  but  I  have  my  private  reasons  for 
wishing  it  to  reach  her  hand  from  no  one  but  you.  So  take 
it,  Tighe,  for  fear  I'd  forget  to  give  it  to  you,  and  deliver  it 
at  your  convenience." 

"  Viry  well,  Corny,  since  you're  sathisfied  for  me  to  give  it 
at  me  convanience,  there's  no  more  to  be  said  about  the  mat- 
ther."  And  Tighe  pocketed  the  carefully  sealed  letter,  and 
with  another  whistle  to  Shaun,  who,  still  reluctant  to  disturb 
himself,  had  not  yet  wholly  withdrawn  from  the  bed,  he  de- 
parted. Arrived  at  the  barracks,  and  on  his  way  to  his  mas- 
ter's apartments,  he  suddenly  encountered  Morty  Carter. 
The  meeting  was  mutually  unexpected  and  undesired,  for  both 
instinctively  recoiled,  but  Tighe  was  the  first  to  recover 
his  wonted  manner.  "  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Carther  ;  you're 
lukin"  foine  an'  well,  as  if  the  world  hadn't  much  agin 
you." 

Carter  looked  sharply  and  suspiciously  into  the  face  of  the 
speaker,  but  he  gained  nothing  by  the  scrutiny. 

"  The  last  toime  we  had  the  pleasure  o'  seein'  ache  other," 
resumed  Tighe,  determined  to  probe  till  he  should  elicit  some 
expression  of  Carter's  feelings  toward  himself,  "  I  didn't  have 
much  toime  to  pay  me  rispicts  to  you  ;  you  see,  betune  bein' 
mesel',  an'  afther,  bein'  me  own  swateheart,  I  was  so  bothered 
that  it  med  me  forgit  me  manners  altogether  ! " 

Still  Carter  did  not  answer ;  he  only  continued  to  look  with 
fierce  suspicion. 

"  But  I'll  tell  you  one  thing,"  pursued  Tighe,  approaching 
his  listener,  and  speaking  with  a  confidential  air  :  "  I  kept  me 
word  wid  you,  Mr.  Carther — I  niver  tould  a  mother's  sow! 
about  what  I  promised  you  thin  I'd  kape  saycret ;  an'  mebbe 


Si6  CARROLL  VDONOQHUK 

you  thought  I  had  a  hand  the  other  noight  in  the  mattherof 
the  eshcape — not  a  one  bit,  only  that  accidint  med  me  in  the 
jail  yard  at  the  very  toime  whin  the  rope  was  thrown  over, 
as  I  tould  iverybody. 

Carter's  face  brightened,  and  his  voice  assumed  a  concilia- 
tory tone  as  he  asked  :  "  When  did  you  see  Mr.  O'Donoghue, 
Tighe — when  did  you  have  an  interview  with  him  ? " 

Tighe  gazed  about  him  before  he  answered,  feigning  intense 
anxiety  lest  there  should  be  spectators,  or  eavesdroppers  in 
the  immediate  vicinity  ;  there  were  none,  however,  and  he 
drew  still  closer  to  Carter  and  whispered  :  "Will  you  kape  the 
saycret  if  I  tell  you  somethin' — will  you  shwear  niver  to  let  it 
pass  yer  lips  if  I  give  you  a  bit  o*  information  now  ? " 

Carter  was  as  truly  eager  as  Tighe  feigned  to  be,  and  in  a 
glow  of  excitement,  he  instantly  gave  the  desired  pledge. 

"Well,  thin,"  said  Tighe,  with  his  mouth  close  to  his 
listener's  ear,  "  I  was  shpindin'  the  evenin'  wid  Ned  Sutton, 
the  warden,  as  I  suppose  you  heerd,  an*  whin  we  were  both 
overcome  be  the  whisky,  he  said  he  thought  o'  somethin'  that 
had  come  to  his  knowledge,  an'  it  was  that  there  was  an 
eshcape  an'  an  arrist  that  noight ;  an'  whin  I  happened  in  the 
jail  yard,  as  I  tould  you,  sure  who  did  I  see  poppin'  out  fore- 
ninst  me  but  the  young  masther,  an'  at  the  same  toime  the 
rope  was  let  over  the  wall.  Thin  it  flashed  on  me  what  Sut- 
ton said,  an'  somehow  I  got  it  into  me  moind  that  there'd  be 
danger  if  Mr.  O'Donoghue'd  attimpt  to  get  away.  I  thried 
to  make  him  go  back  ;  it  was  no  use — he  said  he'd  have  to  go 
on  wid  the  vinture,  if  only  for  the  sake  o'  one  who  was  so 
good  as  to  help  him.  Sure  I  guissed  who  that  one  was,  for 
it's  a  power  he  always  thought  about  you,  Morty,  an'  it  kem 
into  me  head  to  say  that  it  was  through  you  I  was  there,  to 
bid  him  back  to  his  cell  as  there  was  danger  afore,  an'  that 
you  had  got  warnin'  o'  it." 

"  And  did  he  go  then  ?  "  asked  Carter,  trembling  with  eager- 
s. 
Faith  he  did,  an'  I  wint  over  the  wall  in  his  place." 


CARTER  DELUDED.  3,y 

"  Tighe,  you  have  done  me  an  inestimable  service  ! "  and 
Carter  wrung  Tighe  a  Vohr's  hand.  "  Though  you  think  I 
have  played  the  part  of  a  traitor  in  giving  information  to  the 
authorities,  I'm  not  the  villain  you  believe  ;  I  planned  an 
escape  for  poor  Carroll,  intending  to  show  him  and  his  friend* 
how  true  I  was  to  him,  and  I  did  receive  warning  of  the  dis- 
covery of  my  plans  ;  but  it  was  too  late  to  save  the  dear  boy, 
or  to  get  word  to  him  in  any  way,  and  oh,  the  agony  I  suf- 
fered when  I  thought  it  w"as  he  they  had  captured  !  " 

"I  belave  you,  Mr.  Carther,"  said  Tighe,  with  feigned 
earnestness  ;  "  didn't  I  see  it  in  yer  face  whin  I  ketched  a 
glimpse  o'  you  that  noight  as  they  pulled  the  cloak  off  me  ! 
Perhaps" — his  countenance  assumed  a  very  doubtful  ex- 
pression— "  a  good  dale  o'  it  is  lies  that  the  payple  tell  about 
you  ;  an'  mebbe  you  were  dhrove  to  the  one  black  act  you 
committed,  an'  mebbe  you'd  be  thrue  to  the  masther  for  the 
future." 

Carter  eagerly  seized  the  bait  which  Tighe  shrewdly  threw 
out  "  I  was  driven  to  it,"  he  said  ;  "  and  Heaven  knows 
that  young  O'Donoghue  has  no  one  more  truly  devoted  to 
his  interests  than  I  am  !  " 

"  Mebbe  you're  spakin'  the  thruth,  Mr.  Carther,"  answered 
Tighe  with  an  expression  in  his  face,  and  an  accent  in  his 
voice,  as  if  he  was  mentally  struggling  against  some  sudden 
conviction  ;  "  how  an*  iver,  I'll  belave  you  for  the  prisint — 
yis,  I'll  belave  you," — his  voice  growing  firmer,  as  if  his  doubt 
of  Carter's  sincerity  had  yielded  to  fullest  trust, — "  an' 
toime'll  tell  whether  I'm  correct  in  me  opinion." 

"  It  will,  Tighe,"  answered  Carter  with  joyful  animation  ; 
"  and  now  tell  me  if  you  had  any  interview  with  Carroll  since 
the  night  of  his  attempted  escape." 

"  Intherview,  is  it  ?  Why,  thin,  Mr.  Carther,  where  is  yer 
gumption  at  all  ?  sure  they  wouldn't  let  the  loike  o'  me  nixt 
nor  nigh  him." 

"  He  is  very  strictly  guarded,"  resumed  Carter ;  "  and  that's 
why  I'm  here  to-day — to  ask  Captain  Dennier  to  use  his  influ- 


j,g  CARROLL  VDONOQHUB. 

ence  with  the  governor  of  the  jail  in  my  favor  ;  you  know 
they  are  warm  friends,  Tighe,  and  if  the  captain  speaks  for 
me,  I  shall  be  admitted  to  Carroll's  cell.  They  are  even  more 
strict  with  the  poor  fellow  since  the  night  of  the  attempted 
escape." 

"  I  knew  it,"  responded  Tighe.  "  An'  now  come  along  if 
you  want  to  see  the  captain — he'll  be  ready  to  recave  you 
about  this  toime." 

He  led  the  way,  Carter  following,  and  having  announced 
the  name  of  the  latter  to  the  officer  and,  in  obedience  to  the 
orders  he  received,  having  ushered  Mr.  Carter  into  Captain 
Dennier's  presence,  he  retired  to  the  adjoining  apartment, 
where  he  vainly  sought  to  distinguish  a  word  of  the  inter- 
view. Nothing  but  an  occasional  sound  of  the  voices  reached 
him,  and  that  only  when  either  chanced  to  be  pitched  above 
the  ordinary  key  ;  and  every  door  leading  to  the  room  being 
tightly  fastened,  he  could  not  make  a  pretense  for  putting  one 
ajar.  His  efforts  all  failing  to  accomplish  his  object,  he  shook 
his  fist  in  the  direction  of  the  apartment  and  muttered : 

"  You  ould  villain — it's  well  I  know  you — to  get  Captain 
Dennier  to  use  his  influince  wid  the  governor  o'  the  jail ! 
a  loikely  sthory,  whin  the  captain  wouldn't  use  his  influince 
for  thim  he  thinks  more  o'  than  iver  he  thought  o'  that  ould 
thraitor  !  An'  him  to  be  wantin'  influince  to  get  visitin'  the 
young  masther !  oh,  Morty  Carther,  it's  a  wondher  yer  ould 
carcass  doesn't  melt  wid  the  hape  o'  lies  that's  coverin'  it ! 
Didn't  Ned  Sutton  tell  me  that  Carther  had  the  run  o'  the 
whole  prison  ?  that  the  government  luks  upon  him  as  the 
foinest  informer  in  the  whole  o'  Ireland  ;  an'  that  he  had  the 
counthenance  o'  the  higher  authorities  to  do  as  he  loiked  wid 
the  guards  for  the  sake  o'  inthrappin'  more  o'  the  poor 
Fenians  ?  I  wondher,  now,  if  it  was  a  bad  shtroke  for  me  to 
say  what  I  did  about  Sutton  !  it  was  the  first  thing  that  kem 
into  me  head,  an'  I  thought  if  I  could  make  Carther  belave 
that  I  thrusted  him  agin,  mebbe  it  would  binefit  the  masther 
someway.  He  spakes  as  if  he  didn't  see  Carroll  since  the 


CAETEB  DELUDED.  j,9 

noight  o'  the  attimpt  to  eshcape — well,  if  he  didn't,  the  divil 
a  thing  kipt  him  but  the  fear  that  Carroll  found  out  his 
threachery  ;  an'  now  that  he  thinks  he's  safe  agin,  an'  all  his 
doin's  saycret,  I'll  wager  me  month's  pay  that  he'll  be  afther 
visitin'  the  cell  widout  much  delay.  An'  he  didn't  suspect 
me  o'  havin'  anything  to  do  wid  the  Widdy  Moore's  letther. 
I  wonder  now  what  are  his  thoughts  about  that  ?  oh,  Carthcr, 
you're  the  broth  o'  a  b'yjfor  informing  but  faix,  the  toime'll 
b«  rare  whin  you  won't  be  carcumvinted  be  Tighe  a  Vohr  " 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

INUENDOKS. 

CAPTAIN  DKNNIER  received  Morty  Carter  with  the  same 
cold  and  dignified  manner  which  had  characterized  his  former 
reception  of  him  ;  while  Carter,  although  his  air  was  marked 
by  a  deference  but  little  removed  from  obsequiousness,  still 
betrayed  by  his  nervousness,  and  the  expression  of  his  face, 
the  indignation  under  which  he  labored. 

"  Your  business  ? "  demanded  the  officer  frigidly. 

Carter  was  stung ;  he  writhed  under  the  lash  of  the  con- 
tempt implied  in  the  freezing  tone,  the  scorpion  whip  of  that 
haughty  demeanor,  and  he  threw  aside  his  deference  and  as- 
sumed a  boldness  born  of  his  desperation  :  "  I  have  come," 
he  said,  straightening  himself,  "  to  know  why  the  paper  con- 
taining information  of  importance  to  the  government,  which 
I  gave  into  your  hands,  and  which  Lord  Heathcote  assured 
me  should  play  an  essential  part  in  the  trial  of  yesterday,  was 
not  produced  ? " 

The  officer's  lip  curled  for  an  instant.  "  Permit  me  to  ask, 
Mr.  Carter,  who  delegated  to  you  the  right  of  putting  such  a 
question  to  me  ?  your  tone,  sir,  implies  doubt  of  my  having 
fulfilled  the  commission  intrusted  to  me  regarding  the  paper 
of  which  you  speak  ;  for  your  satisfaction,  I  shall  say  this 
much :  the  document  passed  safely  from  my  hands  to  the 
proper  authorities." 

"  To  whom  did  you  give  it,  when  it  passed  from  your  im- 
mediate possession  ? "  demanded  Carter,  forgetting,  in  his 
eagerness,  that  he  was  not  speaking  to  an  equal. 

"  You  forget  yourself,  sir  !  "  and  Captain  Dennier's  eyei 
flashed  in  angry  accompaniment  to  his  indignant  tone.  "  I 
U'o) 


LNUENDOE8.  3a, 

have  given  you  all  the  information  I  choose  to  impart — for 
further  account  I  refer  you  to  Lord  Heathcote." 

Carter's  manner  became  less  bold.  "  You  refuse  to  tell  me 
into  whose  hands  you  committed  the  paper?"  he  said  half- 
imploringly. 

"  I  certainly  do,"  responded  the  officer,  "  because  I  recog- 
nize no  righr  of  yours  to  question  me.  And  now  I  must  re- 
quest you  to  «nd  this  interview." 

Carter  was  again  desperate  ;  the  inner  working  of  his  rage 
became  manifest  in  the  swelling  of  the  veins  in  his  forehead, 
and  the  spasmodic  clutching  of  his  fingers.  "  I'll  end  the 
interview,"  he  said,  striving  to  speak  calmly,  but  despite  his 
effort  trembling  in  form  and  voice,  "but  I  have  something  to 
say  first :  I'll  see  Lord  Heathcote,  as  you  advise  me  to  do, 
and  I'll  communicate  to  him  the  result  of  this  interview.  Per- 
haps he  will  see  as  clearly  as  I  do  how  little  your  heart  is  in 
the  cause  you  pretend  to  serve,  and  perhaps  he  will  think,  as 
I  do,  that  you  are  a  party  to  the  plot  which  kept  that  docu- 
ment from  the  court  yesterday  ;  and " 

"  Enough,  sir  ! "  interrupted  Captain  Dennier  with  the 
same  accent  of  stern  contempt  which  he  had  used  from  the 
first  ;  "  and  leave  my  presence  before  I  summon  some  one 
to  eject  you  ! " 

"  I  shall  go,"  retorted  Carter  bitterly,  "  when  I  have  said 
another  word  to  you  :  you  are  not  what  you  seem  ;  you  have 
no  right  to  the  name  you  bear,  and  it  is  in  my  power  to  re- 
veal to  you  who  you  are  ;  but  your  treatment  of  me  has  sealed 
my  lips." 

The  officer,  with  a  look  of  withering  scorn,  answered  :  "  Did 
you  choose  to  reveal  my  identity,  as  you  imply  that  it  is  in 
your  power  to  do,  do  you  think  that  I  would  credit  the  state- 
ment of  a  traitor  t  go,  Mr.  Carter,  and  when  next  you  would 
use  for  your  own  infamous  interests  any  little  knowledge  that 
you  may  have  gained  surreptitiously  of  a  man's  birth,  or 
family,  do  not  choose  one  who  will  be  as  little  affected  by 
your  knowledge  as  your  present  subject."  He  rung  a  hand* 


32a  CARROLL 

bell,  and  Tighe  immediately  appeared  to  show  bafflsd,  en- 
raged Carter  out. 

"  Did  you  succeed  in  gettin'  what  you  wanted  ?  "  he  whis- 
pered when  they  reached  a  part  beyond  the  officer's  quarters. 

"  No  !  "  answered  Carter,  his  face  purple  from  suppressed 
rage. 

"  An'  you  won't  get  seein'  the  young  masther  ?  "  said  Tighe, 
in  well-affected  disappointment ;  "  sure,  I  was  buildin'  on  yer 
tellin'  him  how  it  all  was  the  other  noight,  an*  tellin'  him  also 
o'  the  achin'  in  me  heart  bekaise  I  can't  get  seein'  him  mesel'." 

But  Carter  was  in  no  mood  either  to  answer  Tighe,  or  to 
volunteer  any  information,  and  with  a  hurried  good  day  both 
parted — the  former  to  repair  to  his  lodging  in  order  to  delib- 
erate on  his  next  proceeding,  and  the  latter  to  seek  Shaun, 
and  to  give  vent  to  his  feelings  by  the  following  address  to 
the  dog  :  "  Faith,  Shaun,  I  think  the  intherview,  as  he  called  it, 
wid  the  captain,  didn't  do  him  much  good — his  face  was  loike 
a  busted  bate,  an'  his  eyes'd  frighten  one.  Somehow  I'm  in- 
clined to  think  a  dale  o'  Captain  Dennier  ;  he  has  viry  noble 
ways  wid  him,  an'  I  wish  it  was  in  me  power  to  do  somethin* 
in  his  favor  wid  regard  to  Miss  O'Donoghue.  I  wondher,  now, 
if  I  did  spake  a  good  word  for  him  would  it  help  matthers  ? 
I'll  think  over  it."  And  so  saying,  he  proceeded  to  his  duties. 

Morty  Carter  had  reached  his  lodging,  and  had  just  begun 
his  old  exercise  of  walking  the  floor  in  order  to  quiet  his 
disturbed  mind,  when  a  knock  sounded.  He  opened  to  admit 
Rick  of  the  Hills.  "  Come  in !  "  he  said  in  a  surly  manner, 
as  Rick  seemed  to  pause  for  an  invitation. 

"  You  are  out  of  sorts,"  said  Rick,  quietly  seating  himself. 

"  I  am,"  answered  Carter,  continuing  his  nervous  stride  of 
the  room  ;  "  everything  is  going  against  me." 

"  Everything !  "  repeated  Rick,  "  why,  has  anything  new 
happened  since  the  failure  of  your  plan  for  Carroll  O'Don- 
oghue's  escape?" 

"  Yes  ;  something  that  I  rested  all  my  hopes  on — that  I 
plotted  night  and  day  for,  has  failed  me :  miserably  failed 


me  ! M  His  pace  grew  more  hurried,  as  if  he  would  vent  his 
fierce  excitement  in  increased  motion.  "  The  disappointment 
is  eating  my  heart  out ! "  he  continued  ;  "  but " — he  suddenly 
changed  his  voice  and  paused,  standing  directly  before  Rick  : 
"  all  is  not  yet  lost,  and,  if  the  hopes  that  remain  to  me  suc- 
ceed, there  will  be  happiness  and  plenty  for  us  both  at  last, 
Rick.  I  thought  of  making  another  journey  to  Dublin,  but 
I've  changed  my  mind — I'll  write  instead  ;  and  now  have  you 
come  to  tell  me  that  you  have  succeeded — that  you  have 
Nora's  answer  ? "  He  bent  forward  in  his  eagerness,  his  hot 
breath  fanning  the  haggard  face  beneath  him. 

"  I  have  come  to  tell  you,"  answered  Rick  hurriedly,  and 
with  a  wild  determination  in  his  eyes,  "that  I  have  no 
answer  for  you." 

"  She  refused  to  give  it  ? "  questioned  Carter,  his  brow 
gathering  into  a  scowl. 

"  I  did  not  ask  it,"  responded  Rick,  rising  ;  "  and,  what  is 
more,  I  shall  never  ask  it !  " 

"  Never  !  "  echoed  Carter,  as  if  he  were  dumbfounded. 

"  Never  !  "  repeated  Rick,  folding  his  arms,  and  confront- 
ing Carter  with  the  apparent  desperation  of  a  wild  beast  at 
bay. 

Carter  hissed  :  "  So  you,  too,  would  turn  tail  upon  me  ? 
perhaps  you  forget  Cathleen  I " 

A  look  of  agony  broke  into  the  pallid,  pinched  face  for  a 
moment,  as  if  the  poor  wretch  was  about  to  sink  under  a  sud- 
den swell  of  emotion  ;  but  some  mighty  effort  kept  it  back, 
and  he  answered  as  firmly  as  before  :  "  Could  I  forget  htr> 
Carter,  I  would  fling  you  and  your  hellish  work  aside  forever ! 
because  I  cannot  forget  her,  I  am  still  bound  to  your  in- 
terests ;  but  Nora  is  mine — do  you  understand,  Morty  Carter  ? 
mine  !  and  before  my  tongue  should  say  to  her  what  you  bade 
me  tell  her,  I  would  tear  it  out  from  the  roots." 

Carter  shrunk  from  the  desperate  eyes  which  glared  at  him, 
and  feeling  how  impotent  would  be  his  own  anger  to  meet  a 
passion  as  fierce  and  determined  as  that  now  confronting  him, 


3*4 


CARROLL  VSOXOQIIUB. 


he  drained  from  the  indignant  burst  upon  his  lips,  and 
sought  to  soothe  his  visitor.  "  Perhaps  I  expected  too  much 
of  you,  Rick,  when  I  asked  you  to  do  that  ;  well,  we'll  let  it 
go  for  the  present,  and  when  things  become  more  settled  I'll 
put  the  question  boldly  and  respectfully  to  her  myself." 

"  And  it's  a  refusal  you'll  get,  Carter  ;  mind  you,  I'm  telling 
you  beforehand,  so  that  you'll  be  prepared." 

"  I'll  risk  it  anyway,"  was  the  response  ;  "  and  now  we'll 
drink  to  its  success  !  "  he  brought  forth  a  bottle  and  glasses 
from  some  recess  in  the  room,  and  proceeded  to  fill  the  latter. 
Rick  pushed  his  tumbler  away. 

"  I'll  be  firm  this  time,  Carter — I'll  not  taste  it.  I  promised 
Nora  this  morning  when  I  left  her  that  a  drop  should  not  pass 
my  lips  to-day,  and  I'll  keep  my  word." 

Carter  laughed,  and  jokingly  nn  ';  ed  Rick's  determination  ; 
hut  he  could  hardly  conceal  his  disappointment  and  his  rage 
when  he  found  that  neither  pleasantries  nor  coaxing,  nor  even 
implied  menaces,  could  induce  his  visitor  to  put  the  glass 
even  to  his  lips.  It  was  evident,  however,  that  the  poor 
creature's  resistance  to  the  temptation  cost  him  much — his 
tremor  ana  flush  painfully  attested  that.  "  It's  a  wonderful 
ascendency  she's  gained  over  you  already  ! "  Carter  said 
sneenngly  at  last,  when  he  was  forced  to  put  back  the  liquor 
untasted,  save  by  himself. 

Rick  did  not  answer ;  he  stood  silently  surveying  the  floor, 
till  Carter  returned  from  his  task  of  putting  away  the  bottle  ; 
then  he  said  in  a  lower  tone  than  he  had  previously  used  : 
"  The  money  that  you  gave  me  is  out." 

"And  I'm  not  able  to  give  you  more,"  replied  Carter;  "I 
haven't  enough  for  my  own  expenses,  the  way  things  are 
going.  No,  Rick  " — placing  his  hand  on  Rick's  shoulder, 
and  speaking  in  a  confidential  tone, — "  you'll  have  to  manage 
the  best  way  you  can  without  any  more  aid  from  me  till  Nora 
consents.  Then,  I  am  not  afraid  to  say,  1  shall  be  in  posses- 
sion of  a  fortune,  and  you  shall  share  it." 

"I  see,"  responded  Rick   bitterly,  shaking  ofl   the  hand 


1NUENDOE8.  3,^ 

which  still  rested  on  his  shoulder :  "  you  would  make  beggan 
of  both  Nora  and  me."  He  strode  toward  the  door,  opened 
it,  and  going  out,  slammed  it  violently  behind  him ;  the  ner? 
mstant  he  was  hurrying  down  the  stair. 

"  I  must  set  a  watch  upon  him,"  muttered  Carter ;  M  he  it 
rife  for  treason  against  me  now,  and  he  might  take  some  step, 
in  his  desperation,  that  would  ruin  my  plans." 


CHAPTER  XI* 

A   STORM-TOSSED   SOUL. 

NORA  MCCARTHY,  or  Nora  Sullivan,  as  she  now  ca  led  her- 
self,  had  begun  her  self-imposed  toil,  Mrs.  Murphy  good- 
naturedly  disposing  of  the  fancy  needlework,  and  bringing  in 
return  a  compensation,  alas  !  too  slight  for  the  demands, 
economical  though  they  were,  which  the  noble  girl  would  sup- 
ply. Still  she  wrought,  happy  to  have  employment,  and  hap- 
pier still  to  show  the  poor  creature  from  whom  she  continued 
in  secret  to  recoil,  that  she  was  not  wanting  in  a  daughter's 
truest  affection.  One  letter  from  Dhrommacohol,  written 
conjointly  by  Father  Meagher  and  Clare,  had  reached  her  ;  it 
*as  full  of  the  tender  regard  of  both,  and  it  announced  their 
intention  to  visit  Nora  when  they  should  come  up  to  Tralee 
to  be  present  at  Carroll's  trial,  which  was  ROW  but  a  fortnight 
away.  Filled  as  was  her  heart  with  painful  anxiety  about 
Carroll,  and  torn  as  it  was  with  anguish  whenever  she  re- 
verted to  the  thought  of  the  barrier  which  she  had  deemed  it 
her  duty  to  erect  between  them,  she  still,  on  the  receipt  of 
the  letter,  looked  about  the  little  humble  home  with  a  glow  of 
satisfaction,  as  she  fancied  Father  Meagher  and  Clare  admir- 
ing its  neatness.  Her  hands  had  given  a  graceful  touch  to 
everything;  and  the  sunshine  streaming  pleasantly  into  the 
room,  together  with  her  own  beautiful  self  bending  over  her 
work,  made  the  little  apartment  appear  so  bright  and  invit- 
ing that  Rick,  returning  from  his  interview  with  Carter, 
panged  as  he  opened  the  door  in  order  to  view  the  scene. 
She  greeted  him  with  a  smile,  and  putting  down  her  work, 
rose  to  busy  herself  about  his  comfort. 


A  BTORM-TOSSED  SOUL.  32y 

"  I  told  Mrs.  Murphy  not  to  bring  up  the  dinner  untfl  you 
would  return,"  she  said  ;  "  so  now  I  shall  call  her." 

"  No  ;  wait  a  moment — I  have  something  to  say  to  you." 
He  motioned  her  back  to  her  chair,  while  he  stood  before 
her  with  folded  arms.  "  It  has  come  to  this  at  last :  that 
I  am  penniless.  The  person  who  helped  me  before,  and  that 
I  thought  would  continue  to  do  so,  has  refused.  It  was  cruel 
of  me  to  take  you  from  your  comfortable  home,  when  I  knew 
that  I  might  be  bringing  you  to  want  such  as  will  press  upon 
us  now  :  but  it  is  not  yet  too  late  to  remedy  what  I  have  done. 
I  shall  send  you  back  to  Father  Meagher,  and  I  can  live  as  1 
have  lived  before." 

She  was  up  from  her  seat,  her  queenly  form  drawn  to  its 
full  height,  her  beautiful  eyes  humid  with  emotion.  "  Is  this, 
then,  the  return  you  will  permit  me  to  make  for  your  affec- 
tion— send  me  back  to  comfort,  while  you  wander  in  misery  ? 
Oh,  father  !  is  then  my  love  of  such  little  worth  that  you 
think  poverty  can  frighten  it  away  ?  I  shall  never  leave  you  ! 
what  jwr  fate  is,  mine  shall  be  ;  should  you  have  to  beg,  I 
too  can  ask  for  alms  ! " 

"  You  do  not  know  what  you  are  talking  about !  "  said  Rick, 
wearily  and  sadly,  and  with  his  face  averted,  as  if  he  feared 
to  look  at  her. 

"  I  do,"  she  answered,  her  voice  losing  none  of  its  firmness  ; 
"  the  poverty  you  speak  of  means  that  we  cannot  even  keep 
this  little  home — we  must  seek  a  cheaper  abode  ;  that  will  not 
be  so  difficult  to  find,  and  by  using  econcmy  with  that  which 
I  already  earn,  it  will  be  enough  for  us  both." 

She  would  listen  to  no  more  from  him  ;  and  in  truth  he 
•eemed  too  overcome  by  emotion,  or  perhaps  weakness — for 
latterly  but  little  nourishment  passed  his  lips, — to  have  the 
strength  to  urge  her  farther.  He  sunk  unresistingly  into  the 
seat  sh«  had  left,  and  watched  her  in  silence,  when,  having 
called  to  Mrs.  Murphy  to  bring  up  the  dinner,  she  busied  her- 
self with  the  simple  preparations  for  the  little  meal.  She 
coaxed  Kick  to  eat,  and  to  gratify  her  he  made  the  effort ; 


3 28  CARROLL  VDONOQ1IUB. 

but  every  mouthful  seemed  to  choke  the  poor  wretch,  as  ht 
thought  of  the  life  of  hardship  to  which  he  was  about  to  in- 
troduce the  beautiful  girl.  "  Nora,"  he  said  at  last,  pushing 
his  plate  away,  "  I  cannot  eat  in  the  face  of  all  you  will  have 
to  suffer  if  you  remain  with  me  !  beside,  I  shall  be  breaking 
my  word  to  Father  Meagher — I  promised  him  that  you  should 
have  at  least  a  decent,  comfortable  home.  It  is  no  longer  in 
my  power  to  give  you  such." 

"  I  am  capable  of  enduring  much,"  she  answered  ;  "  and 
Father  Meagher  need  not  know  just  for  the  present  of  the 
change  in  our  circumstances  ;  it  might  grieve  him,  and  I  know 
it  would  cause  him  to  strain  his  slender  purse  for  our  benefit. 
After  a  little,  when  I  have  learned  to  work  harder,  so  that  my 
earnings  will  amount  to  more,  we  shall  be  able  to  live  com- 
fortably again,  and  then  we  shall  let  Father  Meagher  know. 
Cheer  up,  father ;  the  dear  God  will  provide  for  us,  and  I 
shall  mind  nothing — poverty,  hardship,  suffering, — if  it  re- 
claims you  to  the  religion  you  have  so  long  forgotten." 

Rick  groaned. 

She  continued  :  "  I  have  articles  of  dress  that  I  do  not  need, 
and  that  Mrs.  Murphy  will  dispose  of  for  me." 

Rick  bounded  from  the  table.  "  I  must  go  out,"  he  said  ; 
"  I  shall  smother  if  I  stay  here  longer  !  " 

"  Where  ? "  she  asked,  her  voice  trembling  with  anxiety,  and 
something  akin  to  terror,  for  these  wild,  sudden  moods  dis- 
concerted, and  even  daunted  her. 

"  To  look  for  a  home  for  us  ;  since  you  will  share  my 
poverty,  you  may  as  well  face  its  hardship  at  once  !  "  He 
darted  out,  his  wild  emotions  lending  new  -/rength  to  his 
weakened  limbs.  He  could  have  shrieked  ir-  h's  burning  re- 
morse, his  wild  despaii  ,  and  more  than  one  '^rned  to  look 
after  the  rapidly  walking  man,  whose  pallid  f  -i.-e,  compressed 
lips,  and  glaring  eyes  told  the  story  of  a  tort  <ved  heart.  He 
halted  as  he  passed  the  public  houses,  his  w  onted  haunts, — 
his  whole  being  was  crying  for  a  draught  of  the  fiery  stuff 
which  would  stifle  the  cries  of  his  miserable  conscience,  rod 


A  STORM-TOSSED  SOUL.  329 

give  Kim  courage  for  new  guilt  ;  but  the  thought  of  the  noble, 
self-sacrificing  being  from  whom  he  had  just  parted,  the  vivid 
remembrance  of  her  look,  her  voice,  as  she  had  besought  hhn 
that  morning  to  refrain  from  liquor  for  the  day,  held  him 
back  ;  he  turned  away  and  walked  on,  scarcely  conscious 
whither  he  was  going. 

Could  he  have  bestowed  one  backward  glance  into  the 
room  he  had  left,  it  might  have  given  the  last  impetus  that 
was  needed  to  make  him  emerge  from  the  guilt  in  which  he 
was  plunged,  and  the  mire  of  which  was  ingulfing  him  deeper 
each  moment.  Nora  had  flown  sobbing  to  her  knees,  her 
grif.f  all  the  more  bitter  and  violent  because  of  its  very  reac- 
tion— she  restrained  it  so  sternly  in  Rick's  presence,  she  im- 
molated herself  so  remorselessly  before  him,  assuming  cheer- 
fulness and  tender  filial  regard  when  her  whole  being  was 
recoiling  from  both,  and  her  heart  was  torn  with  the  thought 
of  all  that  she  had  sacrificed.  Then  Rick's  own  manner, — 
moody,  silent,  repellent,  betraying  little  of  the  affection  of 
which  he  had  given  such  touching  descriptions  to  herself  and 
Father  Meagher — all  acted  upon  her  now  with  resistless  sway  ; 
but  she  had  voluntarily  accepted  her  cross,  and  however  deep 
it  cut  she  would  not  murmur.  She  dried  her  eyes  when  the 
burst  had  spent  itself,  and  calling  good-natured  Mrs.  Murphy 
to  her  aid,  began  to  examine  her  wardrobe  for  the  purpose  of 
disposing  of  its  superfluous  articles.  Alas  !  there  were  not 
many  ;  it  looked  more  meager  than  even  poor  Nora  had 
thought,  and  by  the  time  she  had  retained  the  very  necessary 
articles,  there  was  little  left,  and  that  little  of  comparatively 
small  value.  But  Mrs.  Murphy,  who  had  been  drying  secret 
tears  oi  compassion  during  the  whole  of  the  inspection,  had 
words  of  cheer  to  offer.  She  comforted  the  poor  young  crea- 
ture, and  taking  the  garments  which  had1  been  selected,  prom- 
ised to  make  a  speedy  disposal  of  them.  She  was  true  to  her 
word,  and  returning  much  sooner  than  Nora  had  anticipated, 
poured  into  the  latter's  hand  a  larger  sum  than  the  poor  girl 
expected  to  receive.  Had  Nora  been  aw  a.  re  that  the  amount 


330  CARROLL  VDONOGHUtt. 

was  swelled  from  good-natured,  sympathetic  Mrs.  Murphy*! 
own  pocket,  she  would  not  have  been  so  joyfully  surprised,  nor 
so  eager  to  accept. 

The  kind  landlady,  charmed  as  she  was  with  the  lovely 
girl,  and  puzzled  to  reconcile  the  near  relationship  of  the 
latter  to  so  uncouth  and  vagabond-looking  a  being  as  Rick  of 
the  Hills,  was  so  touched  when  she  discovered  their  poverty, 
and  that  it  was  owing  to  the  latter  they  must  leave  her,  that 
she  would  have  insisted  on  their  remaining  did  not  her  own 
slender  means  prevent. 

Rick  returned  in  the  wane  of  the  afternoon,  and  in  so 
exhausted  a  condition  that  Nora,  filled  alone  with  pity  for  his 
evident  suffering,  besought  him  to  rest.  He  shook  his  head. 
"  I  cannot  till  you  are  settled  ;  I  have  hired  our  new  home," — 
speaking  bitterly — "and  we  can  go  there  now." 

"  You  are  so  weak,"  she  answered,  "  will  it  not  be  better  to 
wait  till  to-morrow?  Mrs.  Murphy  has  kindly  said  not  to 
hurry." 

"  No,"  he  said  quickly,  "  we  must  go  now  ! " 

She  offered  no  further  remonstrance,  though  she  wondered 
somewhat  at  his  singular  haste,  but  began  her  few  preparations 
for  departure. 

The  abode  to  which  Rick  conducted  her  did  cause  her  to 
give  one  little  involuntary  shudder  as  she  crossed  the  threshold: 
it  was  so  small,  so  sparsely  furnished,  and  situated  in  a  quarter 
of  the  town  where  only  the  poorest  congregated.  Still,  even 
in  that  moment  of  bitter  repugnance,  she  forced  a  smile  to 
her  lips,  and  spoke  cheerfully,  while  Rick,  as  usual,  watched 
her  in  sullen  silence.  As  in  their  previous  abode,  she  went 
about  re-arranging  the  few  articles  of  furniture,  and  striving 
to  atone,  by  her  own  exquisite  taste,  for  the  lack  of  beauty, 
and  even  ordinary  neatness,  in  the  two  little  apartments. 
True  to  her  self-imposed  mission,  she  suffered  neither  the 
poverty,  nor  hardship,  nor  disgust,  with  which  her  hard  and 
isolated  life  was  filled  to  cause  her  to  betray  a  murmur  of 
regret  or  dissatisfaction.  She  was  always  the  same,  when 


A  STORM-TOSSED  SOUL.  33, 

Rick  left  her  and  when  he  returned — cheerful,  and  apparently 
contented, — making  the  best  of  their  present  position,  and 
hopeful  for  the  future. 

She  had  learned  the  way  to  the  shops,  and  was  now  able 
herself  to  dispose  of  her  handiwork  ;  but  she  always  went  out 
heavily  veiled,  and  dressed  poorly  enough  not  to  seem  above 
the  humble  rank  she  had  assumed.  Rick  sometimes  put 
money  into  her  hand  which  he  said  he  had  earned  by  loitering 
about  the  public  houses>  and  doing  chance  errands  ;  he  could 
have  told  her  how,  driven  to  desperation  by  her  noble  sacri- 
fice, he  had  sought  for  steady  labor,  but  his  weakened  condition, 
and  his  wandering  life,  so  little  accustomed  to  work  of  any 
kind,  utterly  unfitted  him  for  it. 

She  had  not  apprised  Father  Meagher  of  the  change  in  their 
circumstances,  and  perhaps  the  fact  of  that  bitter  isolation 
from  all  that  she  loved  told  more  upon  her  health  and  spirits 
than  any  other  deprivation.  She  was  "wilting,"  as  Rick 
expressed  it, — "  wilting  before  his  very  eyes  ; "  for  despite 
her  assumed  cheerfulness,  he  noticed  her  daily  increasing 
pallor,  and  the  look  about  her  eyes  each  morning  which  indi- 
cated a  night  of  sleeplessness. 

In  her  enforced  journeys  to  bring  home  and  to  return  with 
her  work,  she  went  far  out  of  her  way  in  order  to  pass  the 
jail — there  was  a  melancholy  pleasure  in  being  under  the 
shadow  of  the  walls  which  held  him  for  whom  her  heart  so 
fondly  beat,  though  she  herself  had  passed  the  fiat  which  must 
perpetually  separate  them. 


CHAPTER  XLL 
TIGHK'S  EFFORTS  TO  AID  CAPTAIN  DENNIER'S  COURTSHIP. 

IT  wanted  but  a  week  of  Carroll's  trial,  and  the  interest  and 
excitement  which  had  centered  about  those  recently  tried  for 
participation  in  the  attack  on  the  barracks  was  not  yet 
allayed  ;  it  received  fresh  and  startling  impetus  from  the  youth 
and  reputation  of  Carroll  O'Donoghue — stories  were  told  of 
his  daring,  his  wonderful  escape  from  Australia,  the  loss  of  his 
ancient  home,  which  could  hardly  fail  to  attract  and  interest 
the  most  indifferent  hearts.  His  name  was  on  every  tongue, 
and  more  than  one  fair  maid  was  anxious  to  obtain  a  sight  of 
the  brave,  handsome  young  prisoner.  Even  Nora  was  forced 
to  hear  the  gossip  about  him  ;  in  the  very  shop  to  which  she 
carried  her  work  men  were  discussing  the  probability  of  his 
speedy  execution.  She  drew  her  veil  tighter,  and  clasped  her 
hands  on  her  side  under  her  cloak,  to  quiet  a  sudden  pain ; 
and  all  the  way  home  burning  tears  obscured  her  vision,  and 
unhappy  thoughts  made  her  brain  ache.  When  Rick  came  in 
that  night  she  assailed  him  with  questions  about  the  approach- 
ing trial,  striving  to  speak  with  unusual  vivacity  in  order  to 
hide  her  horrible  anxiety.  He  detailed  all  that  he  knew. 

"  Will  you  take  me  to  the  court  when  the  trial  begins  ?"  she 
asked,  her  voice  trembling  a  little ;  "  we  can  stay  in  some 
retired  part,  and  I  shall  be  so  heavily  veiled  that  no  one  will 
recognize  me." 

"  Yes,"  responded  Rick,  looking  at  her  sharply,  but  not 
suffering  his  countenance  to  show  the  thoughts  which  that 
look  engendered  ;  "we  can  go  where  much  notice  will  not  be 
taken  of  us." 

About  the  same  time,  in  a  different  part  oi  the  town,  Cap- 

tnO 


TIGHE  AIDS  CAPTAIN  DENN1ER3  COURTSHIP.  33J 

tain  Dcnnier  had  startled  his  valet  by  saying  :  "  Tighe,  1  am 
thinking  of  a  journey  to  Dhrommacohol — can  you  guide  me 
to  the  home  of  Miss  O'Doncghue,  the  sister  of  the  prisoner  ?" 

Tighe's  face  became  immediately  aglow,  and  his  eyes  danced 
with  delight.  "  Faith,  yer  honor,  you  couldn't  give  me  a  task 
more  to  me  moind  !  I'll  be  proud  an'  happy  to  show  you  the 
way."  * 

"  Very  well,  then,  well  take  the  morning  car.** 

Tighe  seemed  to  hesitate. 

"What  is  the  matter  ?  "  asked  the  officer. 

"  I  was  only  thinkin'  that  it  moightn't  be  respictful  to  yer 
honor  to  take  Shaun,  but  I  couldn't  lave  him,  for  he'd  pine 
wid  the  lonesomeness,  an'  mebbe  it'd  give  him  another  shpell 
o'  sickness  ! "  and  the  look  of  distress  which  accompanied 
the  observation  was  most  ludicrous. 

"  Oh,  bring  him  by  all  means  !  "  laughed  the  captain  ;  and 
Tighe,  relieved,  left  the  room  to  impart  to  Shaun  at  his  first 
opportunity  his  opinion  of  Captain  Dennier's  unexpected  an- 
nouncement : 

"  Begorra,  Shaun,  it's  nothin'  else  than  love  that's  takin* 
him  ;  he's  as  lost  a  man  wid  regard  to  his  heart  as  there's  in 
Tralee,  aye,  as  there's  in  the  whole  o'  Ireland  this  day  ;  he's 
as  far  gone  as  that  poor  omadhaun  Garfield  was  !  How  an' 
iver,  as  I  said  afore,  it's  an  ill  wind  that  blows  nobody  good, 
an'  the  wind  that's  blowin*  him  to  Miss  O'Donoghue  will 
blow  me  to  Moira,  an'  faith  it'll  blow  Corny  OToole's  letther 
to  me  mother  !  " 

And  laughing  softly  as  he  imagined  what  might  be  the 
ridiculous  contents  of  the  epistle,  he  began  to  busy  himself 
with  preparations  for  the  journey. 

Father  Meagher  was  absent  on  his  parish  rounds,  when 
Captain  Dennier,  escorted  by  Tighe,  and  followed  by  Shaun, 
arrived  at  the  little  pastoral  residence.  Moira  admitted  them, 
and  the  presence  of  the  military  stranger  awing  her  some- 
what, prevented  the  scream  of  delight  with  which  she  would 


334  CARROLL  VDONOGHUB. 

have  greeted  Tighe.  She  ushered  the  officer  into  the  parlor, 
saying  she  would  summon  Miss  O'Donoghue,  and  with  one  of 
her  pretty,  naive  courtesies,  withdrew.  Tighe  was  waiting  for 
her  in  the  hall. 

"  Tell  Miss  O'Donoghue,"  he  said,  catching  both  of  Moira's 
not  unwilling  hands  close  within  his  own,  "that  I'd  loike  to 
see  her  first.  I  have  somethin'  to  say  privately  to  her." 

"Why,  Tighe,  what  cznyeu  have  to  say  privately  to  a  lady 
like  her?" 

Tighe  whispered,  casting  meanwhile  many  a  significant 
glance  toward  the  parlor  door  :  "  Jist  a  word,  Moira,  to  take 
the  twists  out  o'  the  road  that's  betune  the  two  o'  thim — don't 
you  see  they're  in  the  same  harrowin*  shtate  as  mesel'  an'  you 
are  ? " 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Mr.  Carmody  ?  "  and  Moira  gave  her 
pretty  head  a  toss. 

"  Mr.  Carmody  1 "  repeated  Tighe,  with  ludicrous  amaze- 
ment ;  "  is  that  the  exprission  o'  yer  sintimints  for  me  now  ? 
well,  mebbe  I  had  no  roight  to  say  you  were  in  the  same 
shtate  as  mesel'.  Faith  there's  no  thrust  in  wimen  these 
toimes — if  you  have  thim  one  day,  you're  not  sure  o'  thim 
the  nixt,  an'  I  wouldn't  be  surprised,  Moira,  if  yer  head  was 
runnin'  this  minit  on  the  flatthery  that  some  omadhaun's  been 
givin*  you." 

Moira  drew  herself  up.  "  And  why  shouldn't  I,  Mr.  Car- 
mody, receive  somebody  else's  attentions — they  tell  of  your 
doings  in  the  town — your  racing,  and  your  sporting,  and " 

"  Och,  Moira  darlin',  is  it  that  that's  throublin'  you  ?  Faith, 
there's  not  one  thing  in  that  shtory,  but  a  lot  o'  baldherdash 
about  a  horse  which  I'll  explain  to  you  at  a  more  convanient 
toime  ;  a,V  don't  you  see  how  thrue  I  am  ? " — he  pointed  to  the 
fadid  bow  at  the  side  of  his  hat  ;  "  through  thick  an'  thin, 
Moira,  it  niver  laves  its  place.  Come,  be  yerseP  agin,  an' 
give  me  that  flower  in  yer  breast,  as  a  mark  o'  yer  forgive- 
ness." A  bunch  of  heliotrope,  picked  that  morning,  adorned 
the  front  of  Moira's  dress. 


TIQHE  AIDS  CAPTAIN  DENN1ERS  COURTSHIP.  33S 

Moira  could  not  resist  the  tone  in  which  the  words  were 
uttered,  nor  the  glance  by  which  they  were  accompanied  ;  she 
gave  him  the  flower,  and  with  an  ejaculation  expressive  of 
her  own  feelings  on  the  subject  of  her  delay  in  summoning 
Miss  O'Donoghue,  she  flew  to  find  that  lady.  Tighe  remained 
in  the  hall,  and  intercepted  Clare  when  she  was  on  her  way  to 
the  parlor. 

"Only  a  word,  miss,"  he  said  with  his  most  respectful 
bow. 

"Certainly,  Tighe" — extending  her  hand  with  charming 
condescension  ;  "  have  you  news  of  my  brother  ? " 

"  No,  miss,  I'm  sorry  to  say  I  have  nothin'  to  tell  you  about 
him — it's  regardin'  the  captain  beyant," — indicating  the  parlor 
door  by  a  motion  of  his  head,  and  then  stopping  short  in  con- 
fusion that  almost  amounted  to  consternation,  as  he  realized 
for  the  first  time  the  boldness  and  the  difficulty  of  the  task  he 
had  imposed  on  himself. 

"  Well,  Tighe,  go  on," — and  Miss  O'Donoghue's  wonder  and 
curiosity  increased. 

"Oh,  Miss  O'Donoghue,  I'm  afeerd  you'll  be  angry  intoirely 
wid  me,  whin  you  hear  what  I  have  to  say  ;  if  I  thought  more 
about  it  afore,  I  wouldn't  be  takin'  the  liberty  I'm  doin'." 

"  No,  no,  Tighe  ;  go  on — I  shall  forgive  you  whatever  it  is." 

"  Well,  thin  " — blurting  the  words  out,  while  the  rosy  hue 
of  his  cheeks  became  deeper,  and  his  hands  worked  awk- 
wardly together, — "  I  have  the  manes  o*  suspectin'  that  the 
captain  is  dapely  in  love  wid  you  ;  an'  oh,  Miss  O'Donoghue, 
he's  so  noble,  an'  so  big-hearted,  that  it  kem  into  me  head  to 
spake  a  good  word  for  him.  If  he  axes  you,  an'  it'd  be  agin 
yer  principles  to  say  '  yis,'  do  the  refusin'  loightly,  so  it  won't 
break  his  heart." 

Clare  was  painfully  scarlet.  "  You  are  mistaken,  Tighe," 
she  said  ;  "  the  gentleman  has  not  met  me  a  sufficient  numbe* 
of  times  to  do  more  than  recognize  my  face." 

"  Faith,  miss,  it's  little  matther  about  that — love  doesn't 
wait  for  toimes  nor  places.  I  niver  was  mishtaken  in  a  case 


336  CARROLL  VDONOQHUE. 

o*  it  yet ;  an*  whin  I  seen  the  signs  an'  tokens  o'  it  in  the  cap. 
tain,  I  was  touched  intoirely  be  rayson  o'  his  goodness.  For- 
give the  liberty  I'm  takin',  but  oh,  Miss  O'Donoghue,  promise 
me  you  won't  give  him  a  woundin'  denial  ! " 

"  Really,  this  is  too  absurd  !  "  and  Clare,  her  painful  blush 
dyeing  her  very  neck,  turned  abruptly  from  Tighe,  and  hur- 
ried to  the  parlor. 

"  Well,"  muttered  the  discomfited  Tighe  a  Vohr,  "  I  thried 
to  do  him  a  good  turn,  an*  if  it  fails,  it's  through  no  lack  o'  a 
worthy  intintion  on  my  part." 

Captain  Dennier,  in  his  impatience  at  the  delay,  was  already 
standing  when  Clare  entered — she  had  paused  a  moment  with- 
out the  parlor  door  to  allow  her  flush  to  subside,  and  to  ac- 
quire steadiness  in  her  voice.  He  came  forward  with  the 
courtly  bow  she  so  well  remembereu. 

"  Miss  O'Donoghue  ! "  his  tones  were  tremulous,  and  the 
color  in  his  cheek  and  the  flash  in  his  eye,  evinced  painful 
anxiety.  "  Pardon  my  intrusion,  made  this  time,  perhaps, 
with  less  excuse  than  it  was  in  my  power  to  offer  on  previous 
occasions  ;  but  I  have  come  impelled  by  a  desire  to  see  you^ 
and  to  ask  you  once  more  to  think  kindly  of  me — I  would 
have  this  assurance  before  I  leave  forever  a  land  that  shall 
always  have  for  me  most  sweet,  and  yet  most  bitter,  memories." 

She  had  involuntarily  started  at  the  announcement  of  his 
departure.  He  observed  the  motion  and  it  seemed  to  make 
him  bolder. 

"  May  I  take  with  me,"  he  said,  "  the  assurance  of  your 
kindly  feeling  ;  despite  the  cruel  character  it  was  my  painful 
duty  to  assume,  may  I  bear  with  me  to  the  distant  land  to 
which  I  go  the  remembrance  of  your  charitable  forgive- 
ness ? " 

He  had  advanced  to  her,  and  had  extended  his  hand. 
Blushing,  trembling,  confused,  Clare  listened ;  but  at  his  ap- 
proach she  recovered  herself,  and  sought  to  feign  the  dignity 
and  reproach  which  she  deemed  it  her  duty  to  feel  ;  affecting 
not  to  see  bis  proffered  hand,  she  answered  :  "  If  you  did  but 


TIGSB  AW8  CAPTAIN  DENNIEli'S  COVltTSBIP.  ^ 

your  duty,  Captain  Dennier,  I  know  not  why  you  should  seek 
forgiveness,  and  least  of  all  from  me,  the  sister  of  your  vic- 
tim ;  nor  can  I  think  of  what  consequence  can  be  my  feeling 
tOAvard  you,  whether  kindly  or  not,  when  I  am  only  one  of 
those  rebels  it  is  your  choice,  and  your  boast,  to  crush.  You 
mock  rne,  sir,  by  speaking  as  you  do,  when  my  brother  lies  in  a 
jail  in  imminent  danger  of  execution  through  your  means." 

She  paused,  but  it  was  Ohly  because  emotion  threatened  to 
overpower  her. 

"  Cease,  Miss  O'Donoghue,  I  beg  of  you  !  "  and  the  officer's 
voice  was  as  tremulous  as  her  own  had  been  ;  "  you  misjudge, 
you  wrong  me  !  " 

Her  lip  curled  contemptuously.  "  Wrong  you  ! "  she 
straightened  herself,  and  drew  back  from  him.  "  A  single  word 
from  you  to  the  governor  of  the  jail  would  have  won  for  us 
the  favor  we  craved — an  interview  with  my  brother.  I  knelt 
to  you  for  it,  Captain  Dennier,  but  you  refused — surely,  to 
one  who  holds  such  stern  ideas  of  duty,  the  feelings  of  those 
who  are  crushed  by  that  relentless  principle  can  make  little 
difference." 

She  turned  slightly  from  him,  and  pressed  her  clasped  hands 
to  her  forehead  ;  it  was  throbbing  wildly  from  her  painful  ex- 
citement. He  watched  her  a  moment  in  silence,  as  if  he  would 
fain  read  something  in  that  forbidding  deportment  which 
would  not  chill  entirely  the  hope  still  within  him  ;  but  noth- 
ing appeared — evidently  she  was  only  waiting  for  him  to  end 
the  interview 

"  Miss  O'Donoghue," — the  sadness  in  his  voice  thrilled 
her — "  I  see  that  the  opinion  which  you  first  formed  of  me  ha? 
remained  unaltered,  and  I  feel  now  that  no  explanation,  no 
entreaty  of  mine,  can  change  it.  Be  it  so  !  I  shall  cease  to 
urge  you,  and  I  shall  detain  you  only  to  say  that  I  could  not 
leave  Ireland  forever  without  at  least  endeavoring  to  prove 
to  you  that  I  acted  in  the  sad  affair  of  your  brother  reluc- 
tantly, and  but  in  accordance  with  my  duty.  Because  that 
duty  compels  so  bitter  and  so  constant  a  sacrifice  of  my  feel- 


J38  CARROLL  VDONOGHU& 

ings,  I  am  about  to  resign  my  commission  in  her  Majesty'i 
service." 

"  Resign  your  commission !  "  she  turned  to  him,  her  dig- 
nity, that  was  almost  hauteur,  the  scornful  curl  of  her  lip,  sud- 
denly vanished,  and  in  their  place  delighted  surprise  and  in- 
terest. The  spark  of  hope  still  within  the  officer's  breast 
kindled  into  flame  ;  again  he  approached  her,  and  again  he 
ventured  to  extend  his  hand. 

"  May  I  dare  to  hope  that  my  resignation  will  be  regarded 
by  you  as  a  sort  of  atonement  for  the  misery  I  have  so  un- 
willingly caused  ;  and  in  future  years,  when  time  has  closed 
the  wounds  now  so  painfully  open,  will  you  extend  to  me  the 
charity  you  now  refuse  ? " 

Clare  was  silent,  but  she  could  no  longer  refuse  her  hand  ; 
she  gave  it  to  him,  though  apparently  with  some  reluctance, 
while  at  the  same  time  she  averted  her  face  to  conceal  its 
painful  color.  She  was  a  sad  puzzle  to  herself  ;  admiring, 
nay,  more,  secretly  esteeming  this  man,  who  had  committed 
no  fault  save  that  of  stern  devotion  to  his  duty,  flattered  by 
his  deference,  and  the  too  evident  regard  with  which  she  had 
inspired  him,  and  withal  feeling  that,  because  he  was  her 
country's  foe  by  birth  and  principle,  she  must  maintain  toward 
him  the  cold  demeanor  which  she  had  first  assumed,  the 
struggle  between  her  inclination  to  meet  him  with  his  own 
frank  kindness,  and  her  desire  to  be  true  alone  to  her  own 
stern  idea  of  duty,  was  excessively  painful.  Possibly  he  read 
much  of  her  inner  strife,  for  he  dropped  her  hand  after  a 
moment's  warm  pressure,  and  waited  in  silence.  She  would 
be  strong,  she  would  be  faithful  to  the  patriotism  which  it  was 
her  pride  to  avow,  and  calling  to  mind  Nora  McCarthy's  noble 
spirit  of  sacrifice,  she  determined  not  to  be  less  self-immolat- 
ing. 

"  Captain  Dennier  " — her  voice  was  tremulous  from  her  in- 
ward struggle, — "  truth  compels  me  to  admit  that  I  honor  and 
admire  the  spirit  you  have  shown,  but  my  sense  of  duty  forces 
me  to  say  that  I  cannot  regard  you  as  the  friend  you 


TIQHE  AIDS  CAPTAIN  DENNIERS  COURTSHIP.  339 

rouid  be  considered — to  me  you  are  still  my  country's  foe, 
and  my  brother's  captor." 

She  sorght  to  meet  his  eyes  with  a  steady  gaze  of  her  own, 
but  they  dropped  before  his  sad,  thrilling  look 

"  Then,  Miss  O'Donoghue,   I  have  only  to  say  farewell !  " 

He  turned  away  without  again  extending  his  hand,  but  the 
sadness  of  the  tone  in  which  his  last  words  were  uttered  had 
pierced  her  through. 

"  Captain  Dennier  !  "  His  name  had  burst  from  her  in  the 
wild  gush  of  remorseful  feeling,  and  its  tone  too  plainly  told 
of  the  unmaidenly  warmth  of  her  emotions  ;  but  the  next  in- 
stant she  would  have  given  worlds  to  be  able  to  recall  it.  He 
turned,  and  read  in  her  trembling  confusion  more  than  suffi- 
cient to  give  him  renewed  hope. 

"  You  have  reconsidered  your  determination,  Miss  O'Don- 
oghue," he  said  ;  "  you  will  accord  me  that  which  I  crave  ; 
you  will  let  me  bear  from  Ireland  the  promise  of  at  least  your 
future  friendly  regard  ? " 

"  No,  no  !  "  she  waved  him  back,  maidenly  shame  alone  as- 
serting itself  ;  and  then  overcome  by  her  conflicting  emotions, 
she  burst  into  tears. 

The  officer,  utterly  unversed  in  feminine  moods,  was  too 
unskilled  to  read  in  that  very  grief  a  favorable  sign  ;  he  was 
deeply  distressed,  and  when  he  had  watched  her  a  few  mo- 
ments, as  if  he  could  endure  the  scene  no  longer,  he  said  : 
"  Miss  O'Donoghue,  I  beg  of  you " 

"  It  is  nothing,  sir,"  she  interrupted,  ceasing  to  weep,  but 
keeping  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes  ;  "  pray  forget  my  weak- 
ness, and  as  you  have  already  said,  so  do  I  now  say,  farewell. 
I  hear  Father  Meagher  entering  ;  he  will  receive  you."  She 
went  from  the  room,  leaving  him  too  saddened  and  too  bewil- 
dered to  attempt  to  detain  her. 

Father  Meagher  entered  almost  immediately,  and  in  his 
genial,  hearty  way  he  welcomed  the  officer  ;  the  latter  was  too 
much  under  the  influence  of  his  recent  feelings  to  be  able  to 
respond  in  the  same  cordial  manner,  but  the  priest,  without 


140  CARROLL 

Affecting  to  notice  it,  proceeded  in  his  own  hospitable  fashioi 
to  make  the  young  man  perfectly  at  home.  "  You  must  re- 
main to  dinner,"  he  said  ;  "  nay,  no  denial," — as  he  saw  Cap- 
tain Dennier  about  to  murmur  a  polite  refusal  ;  "  you  must 
test  our  Dhrommacohol  fare  this  once." 

The  captain  still  courteously  declined,  and  murmured  some- 
thing about  Tighe,  and  the  time  of  the  next  mail-car. 

"  Well,  then,  that  settles  it,"  said  the  priest ;  "  for  Tighe 
has  taken  the  liberty  of  going  on  an  expedition  of  his  own — I 
met  him  on  the  way  to  his  mother's,  and  he  beggrd  me  to 
make  an  apology  to  you,  and  to  say  that  he  expected  to  b* 
back  before  you  would  have  time  to  miss  him.  So  you  see^ 
captain,  you  are  forced  to  remain,  for,  having  on<:e  experi- 
enced Tighe's  inimitable  protection,  you  would  find  it  difficult 
to  get  along  without  him." 

The  officer,  despite  his  heavy  heart,  found  himself  smiling 
at  the  priest's  playful  remark,  and  unwilling  as  he  was  to  de- 
fer his  departure,  he  was  not  able  to  farther  resirt  the  kind 
invitation. 

Tighe,  on  his  hurried  way  to  his  mother's,  with  fjhaun  at  his 
heels,  often  chuckled  as  he  thought  of  the  letter  snugly  away 
in  one  of  his  pockets.  It  was  brought  forth  w;th  many  an 
amusing  gesture,  and  dramatic  display  of  facial  expression, 
when  at  length,  having  arrived  in  the  little  dwelling,  and  hav- 
ing returned  the  old  woman's  demonstrative  welcome,  he  told 
^er  the  object  of  his  visit  and  the  necessity  for  haste  on  his 
part. 

She  took  the  packet  from  his  hand,  carefully  unwrapped  its 
outer  covering,  and  then  stood  turning  it  over  and  over,  gaz- 
ing at  the  address  when  the  latter  was  upside  down  with  the 
same  interest  that  she  bestowed  upon  it  when  it  was  turned  in 
the  right  direction — for  the  position  of  the  letters  made  little 
difference  to  the  honest  old  soul ;  her  education  was  as  mea- 
ger as  Tighe's  own.  "  What's  in  it,  Tighe  ?  "  Her  eyes  were 
distended  with  astonishment. 

He  took   it  from  her,  and  proceeded  to  open  it,  looking 


T1QHE  AIDS  CAPTAIN  DENNIER8  COURTSHIP.  34I 

very  knowing  and  mysterious  the  while.  "  Do  you  see  now," 
— when  at  length  he  had  Corny  OToole's  deeply-shaded, 
cramped  characters  fully  displayed — "  that  first  word  manes 

"  He  stopped  short,  and  looked  significantly  at  the  old 

woman,  whose  capped  head,  in  her  eagerness  to  see  the 
writing,  was  very  close  to  Tighe's  cheek. 

"  Manes  what  ?  you're  enough  to  make  a  saint  mad  !  why 
don't  you  go  on  an'  rade  it  for  me  if  you're  able  to  ?  " 

"  Aisy,  mother  ;  sure  I'm  preparin'  you  for  the  contints. 
Listen  now  ! "  He  bent  again  very  earnestly  to  the  letter,  at 
one  time  holding  it  so  close  to  his  eyes  that  his  nose  well-nigh 
touched  the  paper,  and  again  putting  it  at  arm's  length  from 
him. 

"  Well  !  "  said  his  mother  impatiently. 

"  Och,  begorra,  mother,  what'll  we  do  at  all — sure  it's  Lat- 
in the  writin*  is  in,  an'  that's  the  rayson  I  couldn't  make  it  out 
afore  !  " 

"  Latin  !  "  and  Mrs.  Carmody's  mouth,  as  well  as  her  eyes, 
was  distended  in  astonishment. 

"  Aye,  mother  !  listen  to  the  quare  sound  that  the  words 
has  :  " — and  thereupon  he  began  so  voluble  and  ridiculous  a 
gibberish,  rolling  his  eyes  and  working  his  face,  as  if  the  very 
pronunciation  caused  him  a  desperate  effort,  that  his  mother 
added  uplifted  hands  to  the  other  outward  expressions  of  her 
great  astonishment. 

"  What  does  it  mane,  at  all,  Tighe  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Faith,  mother,  sure  it's  well  you  know  I'm  not  scholar 
enough  to  tell  you  that  !  " 

"Well,  tell  me  this,  thin, — who  gev  you  that  letther  for 
me  ?  "  and  the  old  woman  stood  in  a  very  determined  attitude 
before  him. 

"  Now,  mother,  didn't  I  tell  you  afore  that  it  was  jist  gev 

into  me  hand  be  a "  Tighe  was  seized  with  a  violent  fit 

of  coughing,  during  which,  pretending  to  be  in  imminent  dan- 
ger of  bursting  a  blood-vessel,  he  made  signs  for  some  salt 
and  water. 


34,  CARROLL  &DONOGHUB. 

The  simple  old  soul,  somewhat  alarmed,  hastened  to  obey ; 
and  Tighe,  feigning  recovery,  burst  at  once  into  so  long  and 
winding  an  account  of  his  ailment  that  she  forgot  to  press  the 
question  of  the  letter ;  Tighe  hastened  his  departure,  not 
ceasing  for  a  moment,  however,  to  talk  about  everything  save 
Corny  O'Toole's  epistle,  in  order  that  he  might  continue  to 
divert  her  attention.  At  the  last,  however,  when  she  stood 
on  the  threshold,  bidding  him  adieu,  and  exhorting  him  to 
take  care  of  that  distressing  cough,  she  concluded  by  saying : 
M  An'  I'll  go  up  this  evenin'  to  Father  Meagher  wid  the  let- 
ther  ;  sure  he  knows  Latin,an'  he'll  rade  it  for  me." 

Tighe  with  difficulty  stifled  the  laugh  which  her  announce- 
ment caused,  and  strode  off  without  looking  behind  him. 
Out  on  the  road,  he  said  to  Shaun  : 

"  Faith  it's  the  roarin'  toime  I'm  thinkin'  his  riverinceT] 
have  whin  he  rades  Corny  O'Toole's  Latin  letther  1 " 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

MRS.  CARMOpY'S  LATIN  LETTER. 

THE  dinner  at  the  little  pastoral  residence  passed  mow 
pleasantly  than  Captain  Dennier  had  anticipated  ;  Clare  pre- 
sided at  the  table,  and  save  for  her  heightened  color,  and  a 
certain  involuntary  nervousness  of  manner,  there  was  nothing 
to  betray  her  recent  agitation.  She  was  studiously  polite  to 
the  young  officer,  but  her  courtesy  was  cold  as  well — all  the 
colder  because  she  was  obliged  to  confess  to  a  secret  pleasure 
at  his  presence.  She  loathed  herself  for  her  weakness,  and 
sought  to  atone  for  it  by  putting  into  her  manner  all  that  she 
dared  of  repelling  dignity. 

The  young  man  felt  it,  but  he  was  too  happy  in  being  so 
near  her  to  permit  her  coldness  to  cast  an  entire  cloud  over 
him.  The  witchery  of  her  manner,  the  grace  of  her  person, 
the  charm  of  her  low,  sweet  voice,  all  were  about  him,  and  it 
was  only  by  an  effort  that  he  could  keep  himself  attentive  to 
the  clergyman's  genial  conversation,  and  by  a  still  more  ear- 
nest effort  that  he  could  contribute  to  the  innocent  pleas- 
antries with  which  the  warm-hearted  priest  enlivened  the 
meal.  But  he  strove  to  do  his  part,  and  once  he  met  the  soft) 
brown  eyes  opposite,  turned  upon  him  with  involuntary  admi- 
ration. 

"  So  you  are  fully  determined  to  resign  your  commission, 
and  to  quit  Ireland  ? "  said  Father  Meagher,  when  the  dinner 
was  nearly  ended  ;  "  may  I  ask  to  what  quarter  of  the  world 
you  will  set  your  face  then  ? " 

Clare  seemed  to  hang  upon  the  expected  answer  for  a  mo- 
ment, then  suddenly  remembering  herself,  she  dropped  her 
eyes  to  the  plate,  and  colored  still  deeper. 
(343) 


CARROLL  VDONOGHUK 

"  My  destination  will  rather  depend  upon  Lord  Heathcote," 
Captain  Dennier  responded.  "  He  is  my  patron,  and  I  shall 
possibly  guide  my  future  movements  by  his  counsel." 

The  priest  became  silent,  and  the  meal  being  finished,  Clare 
was  glad  of  an  excuse  to  retire  ;  she  left  the  gentlemen  over 
their  cigars,  and  hurried  to  her  own  room,  which  she  did  not 
leave  until  summoned  to  say  farewell  to  the  young  officer. 

The  adieu,  save  for  the  pressure  of  his  hand  as  he  held  her 
passive  fingers  for  a  moment,  was  as  cold  upon  his  part  as  it 
was  upon  her  own  ;  and  not  even  a  glance  betrayed  to  the 
clergyman  the  depth  and  the  agony  of  the  feelings  that  swelled 
in  the  two  young  hearts  beside  him.  Captain  Dennier  departed, 
accompanied  by  the  escorts  with  whom  he  had  arrived  that 
morning,  and  Clare  was  forced  to  hear  from  Father  Meagher 
a  panegyric  on  the  young  man's  noble  qualities. 

"  I  have  rarely  met,"  said  the  priest,  "  such  an  excellent 
character  ;  his  devotion  to  principle  is  remarkable  ! " 

"  So,  also,  was  his  relentless  cruelty  to  my  brother  !  "  spoke 
up  Clare  sharply  ;  she  spoke  thus  in  order  to  hide  her  remorse 
for  her  coldness  to  the  officer — a  remorse  which  the  clergy- 
man's praise  of  the  young  man  made  all  the  keener. 

Father  Meagher  looked  up  surprised  and  pained.  "  Why^ 
Clare  !  I  thought  you  had  learned  more  Christian  charity — 
Carroll  himself  would  laud  this  young  soldier ;  and  even  your 
unforgiving  wrath  ought  to  be  appeased  by  the  fact  of  his  in- 
tended resignation.  He  intimated  to  me  that  he  had  told  you 
the  cause." 

"  Christian  charity  !  "  she  repeated  ;  "  I  see  in  him  only  the 
one  who  has  caused  my  brother's  imprisonment — who  has  re- 
fused me  the  favor  for  which  I  knelt — whose  principles  are 
against  the  poor,  struggling,  inthralled  Irish  !  " 

She  left  the  room  before  Father  Meagher  could  utter  a  word 
of  the  indignant  reprimand  which  rose  to  his  lips,  and  look- 
ing toward  the  door,  which  she  had  not  closed  behind  her,  he 
said  to  himself :  "  Human  nature  is  difficult  to  understand, 
but  feminine  human  nature  defies  all  finite  intelligence." 


MRS.   CARMODY*  8  LATIN  LETTER.  34S 

He  turned  to  repair  to  his  study,  but  he  was  summoned, 
before  he  reached  it,  to  meet  Mrs.  Carmody.  She  was  in 
quite  a  flutter  of  excitement,  drawing  a  letter  from  the  folds 
of  her  shawl  and  proffering  it  with  a  low  courtesy  to  the 
priest. 

"  Tighe  says  it's  a  lettheyn  Latin,  yer  riverince,  addhressed 
to  me,  an'  I  kem  up  to  have  you  rade  it." 

"  A  letter  in  Latin  !  "  repeated  the  priest,  looking  very  much 
astonished  ;  "  why,  what  learned  correspondent  have  you, 
Mrs.  Carmody,  to  be  addressing  you  in  a  dead  language  ? " 

"  Faith,  yer  riverince,  I  couldn't  tell  you,  if  I  was  thinkin* 
from  now  till  the  harvest ;  nor  do  I  know  who'd  be  writin'  to 
me  at  all,  much  liss  in  such  a  quare,  outlandish  way  as  that." 

"Well,  we'll  soon  see,  Mrs.  Carmody," — and  the  priest 
drew  the  missive  from  the  already  opened  envelope,  his  face 
breaking  into  a  broad  smile  as  he  glanced  his  eye  over  the 
contents  before  reading  aloud.  "  Did  Tighe  tell  you  that  it 
was  in  Latin  ?  "  he  asked,  looking  up. 

"  Faith  he  did  !  " 

"  Well,  this  is  what  the  letter  says,  Mrs.  Carmody  : 

"  '  RESPECTED  MRS.  MOLLIE  CARMODY  : 

Permit   one   to    address 

you  who,  despite  the  changing  vicissitudes  of  an  unhappy 
fortune,  has  ever  retained  your  image  in  his  secret  bosom.  In 
the  golden  and  hallowed  glow  of  a  never-to-be-forgotten 
past,  your  beautiful  face  was  the  star  that  lit  my  ardent  destiny, 
and  in  the  desolate  present  your  widowed  heart  is  the  only 
one  to  which  my  own  solitary  and  forlorn  organ  turns.  If, 
oh,  if,  respected  Mrs.  Mollie,  it  be  in  your  power  to  withdraw 
your  lonely  affections  from  the  grave  of  your  lamented  hus- 
band, and  you  are  not  averse  to  bestow  them  where  they  shall 
encounter  only  the  deepest  appreciation  and  the  most  respect- 
ful regard,  then  Corny  O'Toole  will  be  proud  and  happy  to 
receive  them,  and  to  make  you,  dearest  Mollie,  the  wife  of  the 
undersigned. 

I  remain,  dearest  Mrs.  Carmody,  yours  with  the 
most  profound  sentiments  of  regard  and  enraptured  admira- 
tion, 

CORNY  OTooi*.' " 


34$  CARROLL  &DONOGHUB. 

The  clergyman  put  down  the  letter,  laughing  loud  and 
heartily,  while  Mrs.  Carmody's  face,  between  astonishment 
and  indignation,  afforded  a  most  ludicrous  study.  She  did 
not  join  in  the  priest's  mirth  ;  she  was  too  angry  for  being 
made  the  object  of  Corny  O'Toole's  ardent  affection,  and  she 
burst  out,  forgetting,  in  her  vexation,  the  respectful  tone 
which  she  was  accustomed  to  use  to  his  reverence  : 

"  That's  the  rayson  Tighe  didn't  tell  me  who  the  letther  was 
from  ; — it's  well  he  was  aware,  ihesfiafyeen,  o'  who  was  the  writer, 
an'  it's  well  he  was  aware  that  me  hand  would  scorn  to  touch 
it  if  he  tould  me  who  it  kem  from.  A  letther  in  Latin,  indade  ! 
faith  the  counthry  knows  Corny  O'Toole's  Latin — a  foine 
baldherdash  o1  words  that  have  naythur  head  nor  tail  to  thim  !" 

"  Why,  Mrs.  Carmody,"  answered  the  priest,  when  his  mirth 
had  somewhat  subsided,  "you  seem  to  set  little  value  on  the 
honor  which  is  here  done  you  !  do  you  know  that  when  a  man 
asks  a  woman  to  become  his  wife  he  confers  the  greatest  pos- 
sible mark  of  esteem  upon  her — he  shows  that  he  selects  her 
from  all  the  women  in  the  world  ?  and  that  is  what  this  poor 
fellow  has  done.  Surely,  Mrs.  Carmody,  you  ought  to  be  at 
least  grateful  for  the  offer." 

"  Grateful,  is  it,  to  Corny  O'Toole  !  oh,  yer  riverince,  it's 
makin'  fun  o'  me  you  are ! "  and  Mrs.  Carmody's  apron  went 
up  to  her  eyes,  and  in  another  instant  her  sobs  burst  upon  the 
astonished  priest. 

He  waited  till  she  became  quiet,  his  mouth  working,  how- 
ever,  as  if  it  was  with  difficulty  that  he  restrained  himself 
from  bursting  again  into  laughter.  "Well,  Mrs.  Carmody, 
you  intend,  then,  to  refuse  this  offer  ?  " 

"  I  do,  yer  riverince  ;  an'  if  you  knew  Corny  O'T*ole  as  1 
know  him,  you  wouldn't  spake  to  me  the  way  you  did — an' 
more,  too,  that  iver  I'd  see  the  day  whin  yer  riverince'd  ba 
advisin'  me  to  marry  agin,  afther  the  good  man  that  I  lost, 
God  rist  his  sowl ! " 

"  You  mistake,  Mrs.  Carmody,"  said  the  priest,  with  assumed 
gravity  ;  "  I  did  not  advise  you  to  marry — I  only  suggested 


MRS.    CARMODY'S  LATIN  LETTER.  34? 

what  might  seem  to  be  your  duty  in  the  way  of  gratitude  for 
this  honorable  offer." 

"I'm  naythur  grateful  nor  plazed,  yer  riverince,  an'  I'll  take 
it  as  a  great  favor  if  you'll  write  a  few  loines  for  me,  tellin'  Mr. 
O'Toole  that  I'll  be  viry  thankful  to  him  if  he'll  place  his 
attintions  somewhere  elstf." 

Father  Meagher  led  the  way  to  his  study,  and  penned  the 
following : 

"  MR.  O'TOOLE, 

Sir  : — Mrs.  Carmody  desires  me  to  say  for  her 
that  she  has  received  your  favor,  and  while  she  thanks  you  for 
the  honor  you  would  do  her,  she  is  obliged  to  decline  your 
offer. 

REV.  M.  MEAGHER, 

for  MARY  CARMODY." 

The  old  woman  expressed  herself  satisfied,  took  the  letter, 
thanked  the  priest,  and  courtesying  deeply,  left  him. 

Captain  Dennier  reached  Tralee  to  find  a  letter  awaiting 
him.  Its  official  seal  and  coat  of  arms  made  his  heart  beat 
quicker  than  usual,  and  he  tore  it  open  to  learn  that  his  con- 
.jecture  was  right — it  was  from  Lord  Heathcote,  demanding 
his  immediate  presence  in  Dublin.  He  bit  his  lip  with  resent- 
ment at  the  imperious  tone  of  the  missive,  and  threw  it  down, 
when  he  had  finished  the  perusal,  with  a  deeply  flushed  cheek 
and  excited  manner.  He  rung  for  Tighe,  saying,  when  the 
latter  appeared :  "  I  shall  have  to  depart  earlier  than  I 
thought."  He  was  so  absorbed  in  troubled  reflection  that  he 
continued  to  pace  the  room  while  he  addressed  his  valet : 
"  When  I  told  you  yesterday  of  my  intended  journey,  I. 
thought  to  have  two  or  three  days  in  which  to  complete  my 
irrangements,  and  to  provide  for  you,  Tighe." 

"  Oh,  as  to  purvidin'  for  me,  yer  honor,  don't  let  that 
:hrouble  you — I  was  always  able  to  take  care  o'  mesel'  at 
rhort  warnin',  an'  it's  nothin'  I  moind  about  this  but  the  losin* 
o'  you.  You  were  viry  koind,  and  Tim  Carmody '11  niver 
forgit  you ! " 


348  CARROLL  VDONOGHUR 

There  was  an  accent  of  touching  sincerity  in  the  last  wordi 
which  went  to  the  young  officer's  heart.  He  stopped  short  in 
his  walk,  and  extended  his  hand.  "  And  you,  my  faithful 
fellow,  I  feel  that  I  owe  you  much  for  your  honest  service." 

Tighe  grasped  the  outstretched  member,  gave  it  a  hearty 
shake,  and  turned  aside  to  control  his  emotion, 

"If  you  could  be  induced  to  come  to  Dublin,  Tighe,  I 
could  provide  well  for  you  there." 

"  Don't  spake  o'  it,  yer  honor,  plaze  ;  aside  from  Shaun, 
that  the  climate  wouldn't  binefit,  I  couldn't  go  so  far  from 
Dhrommacohol — me  heart  is  there  ! " 

Captain  Dennier  turned  away  ;  the  very  mention  of  a  spot, 
the  memory  of  which  was  at  once  so  sweet  and  so  bitter  to 
him,  in  some  measure  unmanned  him — he  was  forced  to 
acknowledge  to  himself  that  hit  heart  also  was  in  Dhromma- 
coboL 


CHAPTER  XLIIt 
« 

SINGULAR    INTERVIEW. 

IN  one  of  the  apartments  of  Dublin  Castle,  where  military 
v-.couterments,  disposed  with  no  neat  nor  careful  hand,  and 
the  general  air  of  carelessness  prevailing,  indicated  the  abode 
of  some  free  and  easy  liver,  Captain  Crawford  reclined  at  full 
length  on  a  somewhat  worn  lounge.  A  fragrant  cigar  was 
between  his  lips,  but  after  intervals  of  slow,  irregular  puffs, 
during  which  some  pleasant  conceit  seemed  to  fill  his  mind, 
he  would  remove  the  cigar  in  order  to  burst  into  a  hearty 
laugh.  In  the  midst  of  one  of  these  ebullitions  he  was 
surprised  by  a  knock,  and  to  his  response  there  entered  Cap- 
tain Dennier.  Captain  Crawford  bounded  to  his  feet. 

"  Egad,  Dennier  !  the  very  one  I  was  thinking  about — I  was 
wondering  how  you  got  along  with  that  specimen  of  humanity, 
Tighe,  and  laughing  at  my  own  experience  with  him.  But 
how  are  you,  old  fellow,  and  what  lucky  wind  blew  you  up 
here  now  ? " 

"  A  summons  from  Lord  Heathcote,"  the  officer  responded, 
returning  the  hearty  shake  with  which  he  had  been  greeted. 
"  It  was  my  intention  to  come  unsummoned,  but  my  arrival 
in  that  case  should  not  have  been  so  speedy." 

"  Lord  Heathcote's  summons — why — what  is  the  matter  ? 
any  unusual  occurrence  ? " 

Captain  Dennier  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  threw  himself 
into  a  chair.  "  You  know  as  much  about  it  as  I  do  ;  though 
I  suspect  the  informer,  Carter,  has  something  to  do  with  it 
However,  it  makes  little  difference  to  me — my  mind  is  firmly 
made  up.  I  shall  tender  my  resignation  to  his  lordship." 

"  You  are  not  in  earnest  ? "  burst  from  Captain  Crawford, 


3SO  CARROLL  VDONOGHUK 

*  Never  more  so." 

"  But  what  if  Lord  Heathcote  meets  you  as  he  did  before 
— you  will  be  obliged  to  defer  again  to  his  wish." 

"  No  ;  not  this  time  !  "  and  there  was  a  look  in  the  young 
officer's  sparkling  eyes,  and  an  accent  of  determination  in  hi« 
voice,  which  convinced  his  hearer.  "  I  must  be  free,"  he  con- 
tinued ;  "  I  cannot  be  shackled  to  a  profession  which  harrowi 
my  feelings,  which  conflicts  with  my  manhood  !  " 

"  Well,  Dennier,"  answered  Captain  Crawford,  "  it  is  just 
as  I  have  said.  These  rascally  Irish  have  thrown  some  witchery 
about  you,  and  won  you  over  ;  or  is  there  an  Irish  maiden  in 
the  case — now  that  I  remember,  Jack  Cade,  who  was  up  to 
see  me  the  other  day — you  remember  Jack  ?  he  used  to  be  in 
the  Life  Guards,  you  know, — was  telling  me  of  some  ladies 
who  called  upon  you  at  the  barracks  :  two  ladies,  I  believe, 
accompanied  by  a  gentleman  ;  at  least  that  was  the  way  the 
gossip  of  Tralee  had  it.  Oh,  don't  look  so  displeased  about 
it  " — as  Captain  Dennier  strove  to  conceal  his  embarrassment 
under  an  appearance  of  indignation, — "  I  understand  these 
things,  Walter  ;  but  seriously,  old  fellow,  I  wish  it  were  other- 
wise with  you  ! " 

Captain  Dennier  arose,  and  passing  his  hand  over  his  face 
as  if  he  would  brush  from  it  its  troubled  expression,  he  said 
hastily :  "  I  have  reason  to  suspect  that  my  birth  and  early 
childhood  have  not  been  what  I  have  been  permitted  to  think 
them.  I  fancy  that  Lord  Heathcote  can,  if  he  will,  give  me 
information  on  the  subject,  and  I  intend  to  urge  him  to  do 
so." 

Captain  Crawford,  in  the  generosity  of  his  friendship, 
and  noting  the  troubled  look  of  the  speaker,  became  pain- 
fully interested.  "  What  are  your  suspicions  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Do  not  ask  me,"  responded  the  young  man  ;  "  I  cannot 
tell  you — I  shall  not  even  suffer  myself  to  dwell  upon  them 
until  I  learn  the  truth." 

"  And  then  ?  "  asked  Crawford. 

14  And  then,"  was  the  agitated  response,  "  I  shall  seek  aq 


A  SINGULAR  INTERVIEW.  3S, 

entirely  new  career,  far  from  all  the  scenes  in  which  I  have 
mingled.  But  let  us  cease  to  speak  upon  this  subject ;  it  is 
unaccountably  painful  to  me  ;  and  pass  the  cigars  " — straight- 
ening himself  and  trying  to  assume  a  cheerful  air.  "  The 
time  for  my  meeting  Lord  Heathcote  is  fixed  for  four — I  have 
barely  an  hour."  * 

He  remained  chatting  over  the  wine  and  fragrant  Havanas 
which  Crawford  produced,  occasionally  catching  so  much  of 
the  latter's  convivial  spirit  as  to  burst  into  momentary  laughter 
at  some  well-told  story,  and  to  find  himself  detailing  a  ludi- 
crous experience  of  his  life  while  in  Tralee  garrison. 

"  By  the  way,"  said  Crawford  suddenly,  "  how  about  that 
laughable  incident  which  occurred  during  the  trial  in  Tralee 
a  fortnight  ago  ?  some  of  the  papers  gave  a  most  amusing 
account  of  it.  A  ridiculous  letter,  was  it  not,  that  was  read 
in  place  of  some  Fenian  document  which  should  have  been 
forthcoming?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Captain  Dennier,  smiling ;  "  that  letter,  I 
believe,  took  the  place  of  the  paper  which  I,  according  to  his 
lordship's  order,  intrusted  to  you  to  bring  safely  to  Dublin." 

"  O-o-oh  ! "  and  Captain  Crawford's  face  elongated  in  ac- 
companiment to  his  prolonged  ejaculation  ;  "  that  explains  all 
the  fuss  they  have  been  making  here  in  the  castle.  I  was 
summoned  before  some  of  the  grave  signers  to  swear  how, 
and  when,  and  where  I  delivered  that  precious  document.  It 
is  said  that  the  last  official  to  whose  care  this  paper,  together 
with  other  damning  proofs  against  these  rebels,  was  commit- 
ted, was  taken  suddenly  ill,  and  remaining  too  unwell  to  dis- 
charge his  duty  with  regard  to  close  examination  of  the  pa- 
pers, the  document,  detained  here  longer  than  it  should  be, 
owing  to  his  illness,  was  sent  down  to  Tralee  at  the  last  mo- 
ment, and  without  any  inspection,  further  than  what  was 
given  to  the  superscription.  But  who  could  have  abstracted 
it,  and  substituted  that  ridiculous  letter  in  its  place  ? " 

"  I  do  not  know,"  was  the  reply  ;  "  it  certainly  was  all  right 
when  it  passed  from  ray  possession  to  yours — you  remember, 
I  read  it  for  you." 


35' 


CARROLL  VDONOQHUR. 


"  Yes,"  said  Captain  Crawford  thoughtfully  ;  *  and  it  nevef 
left  ray  keeping  till  I  delivered  it  here  at  the  castle." 

"  Well,  I  am  not  sorry  for  its  loss,"  responded  Dennier  ; 
"  its  absence  on  the  trial  has  been  the  means  of  saving  the 
lives  of  six  poor  creatures,  and  its  absence  will  also  benefit 
the  case  of  the  prisoner  who  is  to  be  tried  next  week." 

"  That  young  rebel,  Carroll  O'Donoghue  ? "  asked  Craw- 
ford, an  unpleasant  expression  coming  into  his  face. 

Dennier  observed  the  look,  and  anxious  to  avoid  the  con- 
flict which  seemed  to  threaten  because  of  his  own  frank 
avowal  of  compassion  for  the  Fenian  prisoners,  he  hastened  to 
burst  into  a  ludicrous  account  of  Tighe's  escapade  from  the 
jail  yard,  and  the  consternation  it  had  created.  His  ruse  suc- 
ceeded. Crawford,  whose  sense  of  humor  was  unusually 
keen,  laughed  heartily. 

"  What  have  you  done  with  him  ?  "  he  asked.  "  I  would 
give  a  good,  round  sum  to  take  him  back  with  me  to  England. 
The  folks  would  look  with  horror,  I  know,  on  so  uncouth  a 
specimen  for  a  body-servant,  but  it  would  be  worth  it  all  to 
watch  Tighe's  manner,  and  to  hear  his  ludicrous  observations. 
Tell  me,  Dennier,  what  have  you  done  with  him  ? " 

"  I  was  spared  the  trouble  of  exerting  myself  at  all  in  his 
behalf  ;  he  is  such  a  general  favorite  in  the  barracks,  he  and 
his  inseparable  companion,  Shaun,  that  I  believe  the  very  pri- 
vates would  conspire  to  keep  him  for  sake  of  the  entertain- 
ment which  he  affords  them  ;  as  it  was,  Major  Capdale  said 
he  would  find  use  for  him,  and  so  Tighe  changed  masters,  not, 
however,  without  some  touching  signs  of  his  attachment  to 
rne.  I  discovered  him  at  the  station — though  I  had  already 
bade  him  good-by  in  the  barracks, — superintending  the  stow- 
ing of  my  baggage,  much  to  the  wonder  and  perplexity  of  the 
valet  I  had  that  day  engaged,  and  who  stood  idly  by  ;  and 
when  I  expressed  my  surprise  and  my  gratitude  for  all  the 
trouble  he  was  taking,  he  whispered  " — here  Captain  Dennier, 
bending  forward,  gave  an  excellent  imitation  of  Tighe's 
brogue  :  M '  Sure,  yer  honor,  I'm  used  to  yer  ways,  an'  I'm  jist 


A  SINGULAR  INTERVIEW.  353 

tachin'  the  perticler  dhrift  o'  thira  to  the  valet  you're  takin*  to 
Dublin.1 " 

Captain  Crawford  laughed  again  more  heartily  than  before, 
both  at  the  picture  which  his  own  imagination  drew  of  Tighe, 
and  at  his  visitor's  comical  imitation  of  the  brogue. 

"  But  I  must  go,"  saio!  Captain  Dennier,  consulting  his 
watch  ;  "  Lord  Heathcote  rarely  forgives  remissness  in  punc- 
tuality, and  I  have  no  desire  to  anger  him  at  the  outset  of 
our  meeting."  He  wrung  Crawford's  hand,  promising  to  re- 
turn in  the  evening,  and  left  for  his  lordship's  apartments. 

Lord  Heathcote  appeared  somewhat  of  an  invalid  ;  a  great 
easy  chair  supported  his  person  in  an  attitude  that  betokened 
weakness,  and  his  face  had  all  the  pallor  and  lines  of  physical 
suffering.  He  returned,  by  a  slight  inclination  of  his  head, 
Dennier's  respectful  bow  when  the  latter  was  ushered  into  the 
room,  and  pointed  wearily  to  a  chair  directly  in  front  of  his 
own.  Then,  with  a  painful  effort,  he  sat  erect,  and  fixing  his 
eyes  with  no  diminution  of  their  keen,  disconcerting  look  at 
the  young  officer,  he  said  haughtily :  "  I  have  received  a  recent 
letter  detailing  an  account  of  an  interview  which  took  place  be- 
tween you  and  a  man — a  hireling  of  the  government  named 
Mortimer  Carter, — the  account  is  not  to  your  credit  as  an 
English  officer." 

He  paused  as  if  expecting  a  reply.  The  young  man  was 
silent,  returning  the  nobleman's  look  with  one  well-nigh  as 
stern  and  undaunted.  His  lordship  resumed  : 

"  You  are  spoken  of  as  one  in  secret  sympathy  with  these 
Irish  rebels — as  one  privy  to  the  disappearance  of  the  paper 
intrusted  to  your  charge." 

Again  Lord  Heathcote  paused,  expecting  a  reply ;  but  again 
he  was  met  by  the  same  dignified  silence — the  same  unflinch- 
ing look. 

"  Have  you  nothing  to  say,  sir  ?  "  he  demanded,  with  some 
asperity. 

"  Has  your  lordship  already  condemned  me  ? "  Captain 
Dennier  responded  calmly,  though  his  Up  trembled  ;  "  h*v« 


354 


CARROLL 


the  charges  preferred  against  me  by  this  hireling,  as  you  term 
him,  carried  such  weight  that  your  lordship  was  forced  to  a 
conviction  before  I  could  be  heard  in  my  own  defense  ?" 

"  I  have  sent  for  you,  sir,  to  give  you  an  opportunity  of 
making  that  defense,"  replied  his  lordship,  coldly. 

Captain  Dennier  arose  ;  he  could  no  longer  control  the  ex- 
citement under  which  he  labored — it  betrayed  itself  in  his 
vivid  flush,  in  his  trembling  enunciation.  "  The  paper  given 
into  my  hands  I  delivered  safely  into  the  possession  of  Captain 
Crawford — he  can  testify  to  that  fact,  having  read  the  docu- 
ment himself  the  instant  it  passed  to  his  charge.  For  the 
other  accusations  which  this  hireling,  Carter,  makes  against 
me,  I  consider  the  source  from  whence  they  spring  too  low 
for  my  notice  or  denial ;  does  your  lordship  deign  to  give  them 
weight,  however,  I  shall  attempt  no  refutation  of  them." 

He  stood  with  so  stately  an  air,  his  head  slightly  thrown 
b*ck,  and  his  dark,  splendid  eyes  alight  with  noble  feeling, 
that  an  expression  akin  to  admiration  flashed  for  an  instant 
across  Lord  Heathcote's  face  ;  but  it  was  as  suddenly  gone, 
and  receiving  no  answer,  Captain  Dennier  resumed  : 

"  Had  your  lordship's  summons  not  reached  me,  I  should 
myself  have  sought  you  to  learn  the  truth  of  the  strange 
inuendoes  which  this  man,  Carter,  dropped  ;  my  heart  tells 
me  that  you,  Lord  Heathcote,  possess  the  entire  story  of  my 
birth  and  early  life.  I  conjure  you,  by  your  honor  as  a 
gentleman,  to  tell  me  who  I  am  ! "  His  voice  quivered  pain- 
fully. 

"  Who  you  are  ?  "  his  lordship  repeated  in  a  somewhat  bitter 
tone.  "  By  what  right  do  you  demand  from  me  more  knowl- 
edge of  your  origin  than  you  already  possess  ?  " 

"  By  the  right  of  your  strange  interest  and  patronage  ;  by 
the  right  of  a  mysterious  impulse  within  me  which  impels  me 
to  you — speak,  your  lordship,  and  end  a  suspense  which  is 
crushing  my  manhood  !  "  He  bent  forward  in  his  eagerness, 
every  fiber  of  his  form  vibrating. 

"You  are  dreaming,  boy;  your  imagination  has  deceived 


A  SINGULAR  INTERVIEW.  355 

you — you  are  simply  what  you  have  been  told  to  believe  of 
yourself.  The  inuendoes  of  this  man,  Carter,  were  perhapi 
invented  for  some  purpose  of  his  own." 

He  spoke  so  lightly,  almost  mockingly,  a  scornful  curl  upon 
his  lip  the  while,  that  the  young  officer  sickened  for  an  instant 
from  the  bitter  disappointment.  He  turned  away,  unable  to 
speak. 

"Dismiss  these  vague,  morbid  fancies,"  continued  the 
nobleman,  "they  ill  befit  a  soldier,  and  concentrate  your 
energies  upon  the  stern  duties  of  the  life  which  lies  before 
you." 

"  I  intend  to,  my  lord."  The  young  man  had  turned  slowly 
back,  and  was  facing  the  nobleman  with  all  the  eagerness  and 
determination  of  some  violently  aroused  energy  ;  "  I  feel  that 
too  long  I  have  been  the  willing  dependent  on  perhaps  a  mis- 
placed bounty.  I  stifled  energies  which  cried  for  outlets  in 
other  directions  than  those  proposed  by  your  lordship — I 
struggled  against  feelings  that  told  me  of  my  utter  inability  to 
cope  with  circumstances  which  appealed  alike  to  my  heart 
and  my  judgment;  but  I  did  it  all  to  prove  my  gratitude 
Now,  however,  the  time  has  come  when  my  manhood  refuses 
to  be  longer  crushed  ;  it  will  assert  itself  by  choosing  a  life  in 
which  duty,  principle,  inclination  shall  unite  ;  and  it  is  for  the 
purpose  of  announcing  to  you  that  decision  that  I  am  here 
this  morning  ;  but,  before  I  leave  you,  my  lord,  before  I  resign 
a  career  which  has  been  so  eventful  to  me,  I  would  fain  learn 
who  I  am.  You  have  failed  to  convince  me  of  the  falsity  of 
my  suspicions — you  have  failed  to  lift  from  my  mind  the 
crushing  weight  of  a  cruel  conjecture  ! " 

Lord  Heathcote  half  started  from  his  chair,  but  the 
movement  seemed  to  give  him  pain,  for  his  brow  contracted, 
and  his  head  fell  slightly  back.  "  That  conjecture  ? "  he 
asked. 

Captain  Dennier  paused  for  an  instant,  as  if  he  would 
gummon  strength  to  make  his  intended  announcement ;  then, 
while  the  vivid  color  mounted  to  his  forehead,  and  his  breath 


356  CARROLL  VDONOGHUK 

came  and  went  in  gasps,  he  answered :  "  That  I  am  your  ffla* 
gitimate  oflf spring." 

The  nobleman  bounded  from  his  chair,  but  with  a  half- 
stifled  cry  of  pain  he  sunk  into  its  cushions  again,  while  an 
expression  of  agony  broke  over  his  face  which  the  young  offi- 
cer could  not  bear  to  look  at  He  asked  hoarsely  :  '  Did 
this  man,  Carter,  hint  at  such  a  possibility  ?  " 

"  No  ;  it  is  my  own  surmise,  formed  from  reflection*  upon 
your  singular  interest  in  me,  together  with  the  strange  inuendo 
from  Carter  that  I  was  not  what  I  seemed." 

"Dennier," — the  nobleman  was  again  partially  erect,  but 
his  jeweled  hand  covered  his  face,  as  if  he  would  hide  its  ex- 
pression of  suffering — "  if  I  tell  you  that  you  are  the  legiti- 
mate son  of  one  who  was  near  and  dear  to  me,  but  that  the 
circumstances  of  your  birth  are  such  as  to  compel  perpetual 
secrecy,  what  will  be  your  decision  with  regard  to  your  future 
mode  of  life  ?  " 

"  The  same,  my  lord ;  but  I  could  kneel  to  you  in  gratitude 
for  having  taken  from  my  mind  its  horrible  weight.  Legiti- 
mate!— then  I  can  face  the  world  with  an  honorable  birth- 
right. I  ask  no  more  ;  I  seek  not  to  penetrate  the  secret  you 
would  hold.  I  have  gained  all  I  craved,  and  I  thank  your 
lordship  for  the  favors  of  the  past,  as  well  as  for  the  happy 
tidings  of  the  present." 

"  By  resigning  your  commission,"  resumed  the  nobleman,  re- 
taining his  hand  to  his  face,  "you  will  forego  all  right  to  a 
property  which  will  one  day  be  yours — you  will  lose  the  prof* 
pect  of  a  magnificent  alliance  which  is  already  contemplated 
for  you." 

He  spoke  very  slowly,  as  if  each  word  in  the  utterance  wa» 
receiving  new  deliberation  in  his  own  mind.  The  young  offi- 
cer replied  :  "I  am  willing  to  forego  all ;  for  I  could  accept 
the  former  of  your  inducements  only  at  the  expense  of  my 
principles,  the  latter  at  the  cost  of  my  affections." 

Lord  Heathcote  looked  up,  his  hand  at  last  removed,  and 
the  lines  and  careworn  look  of  his  face  standing  out  with 


A  SINGULAR  INTERVIEW.  35 7 

painful  prominence.  "  Then  your  affections  are  already  en- 
gaged?" 

"  They  are,  but  hopelessly  !  " 

"  May  I  ask  to  whom  ? " 

"  No,  my  lord ;  I  cannot  tell  you — her  name  has  never 
passed  my  lips — it  is  my  own  unhappy  secret." 

"  But  why  unhappy  ? "  persisted  the  nobleman  ;  "  does  the 
lady  not  reciprocate  your  regard  ?  " 

"  Unhappily  for  me,  she  does  not." 

"  What  is  the  obstacle  ? "  and  Lord  Heathcote  seemed  to 
take  a  malignant  interest  in  thus  pressing  his  visitor. 

"  I  am  the  hated  foe  of  her  country — a  soldier  in  that  ser- 
vice whose  boast  it  is  to  enslave  and  to  crush  her  people." 

He  spoke  with  unusual  warmth,  apparently  forgetful  of 
everything  save  his  own  impatient  ardor. 

"  Ah  !  I  understand," — and  the  nobleman's  mouth  curled 
with  disdain — "  a  pretty  girl  is  the  motive  power  of  all  these 
heioics  ;  I  might  have  surmised  before  the  cause  of  your  wish 
to  resign  ;  but  you  are  now,  by  your  own  avowal,  averse  to 
the  cause  you  have  professed  to  serve,  and  you  are  amenable 
to  arrest."  He  paused,  his  searching  look  reading  Captain 
Dennier  through. 

"  Be  it  so,"  said  the  young  man,  slightly  inclining  his  head  ; 
"  giye  y°ur  order,  my  lord,  and  I  shall  be  far  happier  in  a 
prison,  knowing  that  my  conduct  is  consistent  with  my  heart 
and  my  judgment,  than  holding  the  highest  place  of  honor 
with  every  hour  bringing  some  conflicting  duty  !  " 

"  No,  Captain  Dennier,"  responded  Lord  Heathcote  ;  "  1 
shall  treat  you  with  more  magnanimity  than  you  deserve— 
allowing  for  your  youth,  and  the  natural  impulsiveness  of  that 
mawkish  period,  I  shall  pass  over  your  imprudent  admissions. 
Neither  shall  you  resign  your  commission  ;  retain  your  com- 
mand, sir,  and  bury  in  your  own  breast  all  that  has  been  said 
during  this  interview." 

"  I  thank  you,  my  lord,  for  your  great  leniency,  but,  par- 
don me,  I  must  demand  that  my  resignation  be  accepted.  I 


JS8  CARROLL  VDONOQHUX. 

cannot,  I  shall  not,  longer  retain  ray  commission  in  her  Maj- 
esty's service." 

"  Be  it  so,  then  !  "  said  the  nobleman  sternly  ;  "  but  remem- 
ber by  this  headstrong  conduct  you  waive  every  right  to  your 
future  inheritance." 

The  officer  bowed. 

"  And  may  I  ask,"  the  speaker  continued,  *  what  U  to  be 
your  first  movement  ?  " 

"  I  shall  remain  in  Dublin  for  three  or  four  day«  ;  then  I 
shall  go  to  England,  from  whence  I  intend  to  seek  a  home  in 
America." 

Lord  Heathcote  touched  the  silver  hand-bell  on  the  table 
at  his  side,  and  when  the  attendant  entered  he  waved  Captain 
Dennier  away  without  any  further  adieu.  The  young  man 
would  have  fain  had  a  more  kindly  parting,  or  at  least 
one  which  would  have  evinced  more  gratitude  upon  his  part, 
but  the  sternness  of  the  nobleman's  manner  deterred  him. 
He  passed  out,  and  Lord  Heathcote  rung  again,  saying  to  the 
attendant  who  entered :  "  Send  Curry  to  me." 

The  order  was  obeyed,  and  Curry,  a  small,  slender-formed, 
and  sharp-visaged  man,  stood  before  his  titled  master. 

"  Watch  Captain  Dennier — dog  him  secretly  day  and  night, 
and  write  to  me,  or  telegraph,  information  of  his  whereabouts, 
and  what  he  may  be  doing.  Do  not  lose  sight  of  him  wherever 
he  goes,  be  it  to  England  or  America.  You  shall  be  supplied 
with  ample  funds,  but  let  your  work  be  secret.  Do  you  un- 
derstand ?  " 

"  Perfectly,  my  lord." 

"  That  is  all ;  "  and  the  nobleman  leaned  back  with  an  ah 
of  relief,  while  Curry  bowed  low,  and  departed  to  begin  im- 
mediately his  espionage  of  Captain  Dennier.  That  gentleman 
had  repaired  to  Captain  Crawford's  apartment. 

"  You  look  brighter,  old  fellow,"  was  the  salutation  of  the 
latter ;  "  your  conference,  then,  has  been  satisfactory  ? " 

"  Yes,  in  so  far  as  relieving  me  of  a  dreadful  suspicion — 
and  I  have  succeeded  in  my  purpose  to  resign.  I  shall  send 


A  SINGULAR  INTERVIEW. 


359 


in  the  written  form  of  my  resignation  this  evening,  and  from 
that  time  I  shall  consider  myself  no  longer  in  her  Majesty's 
service." 

"  By  Jove  !  I  am  sorry,  Walter  !  "  and  for  an  instant  some- 
thing like  emotion  showed  in  the  working  of  Crawford's  face, 
but  he  recovered  himself,  Ind  resumed  :  "  We  have  had  some 
pleasant  hours  together  ;  but  when  do  you  go  ?  " 

Dennier  did  not  reply  immediately,  as  if  he  were  reluctant 
to  do  so  ;  then,  as  if  he  had  overcome  some  secret  scruple,  he 
said  :  "  I  shall  return  to  Tralee  for  a  day  or  so — I  confess  to 
some  interest  in  the  approaching  trial  of  the  young  prisoner, 
O'Donoghue." 

A  peculiar  expression  broke  into  Crawford's  face  :  "  By 
Jove  !  Dennier,  but  I  begin  to  have  very  strange  suspicions — 
well,  never  mind,  old  fellow  !  I  shall  not  press  you  on  the 
subject — I  know  that  some  of  these  Irish  girls  are  deuced 
witching  and  handsome,  and  if  you  have  been  so  desperately 
caught,  it  won't  be  the  first  time  a  poor  fellow  has  had  his 
principles  and  his  creed  upset  by  a  pretty  face.  Only  I  can't 
help  feeling  sorry  for  you  ;  you  are  renouncing  a  glorioua 
career,  and  you  are  giving  way  to  impulses  which  the  sober 
judgment  of  more  mature  manhood  will  certainly  change." 

"  It  may  be  so,  Harry,  but  at  least  I  am  acting  in  accord- 
ance with  my  convictions  now,  and  I  am  the  happier  for  it" 

He  turned  away  with  a  careless  air  to  prepare  for  the  even- 
ing dinner  to  which  he  had  promised  to  accompany  Captain 
Crawford. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

CARTER    REPULSED. 

THE  eventful  day  of  Carroll  O'Donoghue's  trial  arrived. 
Father  Meagher  and  Clare  left  Dhrommacohol  in  the  earliest 
mail-car,  and  reached  Tralee  an  hour  before  the  opening  of 
the  court.  They  went  in  immediate  search  of  Nora,  only  to 
learn  from  Mrs.  Murphy  that  the  young  lady  and  her  father 
had  sought  another  residence  three  weeks  before,  and  the 
good-natured  woman  was  unable  to  tell  them  where.  With 
blank  faces,  and  heavier  hearts  than  they  had  borne  thither, 
they  retraced  their  steps  in  order  to  seek  places  in  the  now 
crowded  court-room. 

All  the  wealth  and  fashion,  together  with  the  rank  and  in- 
fluence of  the  town,  was  represented  ;  the  gallery  was  crowded 
with  ladies,  the  bench  filled  with  lawyers,  the  body  of  the 
house  thronged  with  a  medley  of  tradesmen,  mechanics  and 
fanners,  thickly  interspersed  with  the  military,  while  the  uni- 
form of  the  police  showed  in  sufficient  numbers  to  warrant 
the  preservation  of  order.  Every  face  expressed  interest,  and 
many  of  the  countenances,  even  among  the  grave  visages  on 
the  bench,  evinced  an  anxiety  that  might  be  construed  into 
secret  sympathy  with  the  prisoner. 

Clare,  her  veil  down,  and  her  person  somewhat  shielded  by 
the  large  f  arm  of  Father  Meagher,  who  sat  slightly  in  advance 
of  her,  was  seated  directly  opposite  the  prisoner's  dock. 

On  the  outskirts  of  the  crowd,  yet  where,  when  openings 
occurred  in  the  latter,  she  could  see  the  accused,  Nora  was 
stationed,  her  face  heavily  veiled,  and  her  person  shielded  by 
the  stooped,  shambling  form  of  Rick  of  the  Hills. 

-Breathless  interest  prevailed  when  the  prisoner   entered. 


CARTER  REPULSED.  3$, 

Firm,  erect,  with  his  wonted  noble  poise  and  fearless  look,  he 
took  his  place  in  the  dock  ;  but  when  he  faced  the  concourse 
the  ravages  of  his  confinement  and  anxiety  could  be  plainly 
seen — the  intense  pallor,  the  transparency  of  his  face,  the 
lines  worn  in  his  features,  the  unnatural  luster  of  his  large 
eyes,  all  were  painfully  disclosed. 

Clare  raised  her  veil  in  answer  to  his  gaze,  that  wandered 
searchingly  over  the  court-room,  and  immediately  succeeding 
the  glance  of  joyful  recognition  which  he  gave  to  her  and 
Father  Meagher,  came  one  of  weary  disappointment ;  both 
the  priest  and  his  young  companion  sadly  divined  the  cause 
— it  was  the  absence  of  Nora,  and  they  read  in  his  continued 
frequent  and  anxious  glance  the  alarming  conjectures  which 
filled  his  mind. 

Nora,  too,  had  raised  her  veil,  and  bent  forward  to  obtain 
a  full  view  of  the  prisoner  ;  she  saw  his  gaze  wandering  over 
the  court-room,  the  expression  of  disappointment  which  came 
into  his  face,  and  she,  too,  divined  the  cause.  She  fell  back, 
pulling  her  veil  down,  and  for  one  whirling  moment,  while 
her  heart  seemed  bursting  with  renewed  agony,  she  murmur- 
ed :  "  My  God  !  that  I  were  dead  !  "  but  the  next  instant,  in 
deep  remorse  for  her  rebellious  expression,  she  added  :  "  Not 
my  will,  but  Thine,  be  done." 

The  trial  was  fairly  opened,  and  as  it  progressed,  more  de- 
velopments in  favor  of  the  prisoner  were  produced  than  had 
been  generally  anticipated.  Direct  proof  of  his  connection 
with  the  I.  R.  B.  organization  was  wanting,  owing  to  the 
abstraction  of  the  paper  by  Tighe  a  Vohr ;  and  his  counsel 
cited,  as  one  of  the  points  in  the  defense,  the  fact  of  the 
accused  refusing  to  escape  when  every  door  which  separated 
him  from  freedom  had  been  secretly  opened  for  his  release. 
Faces  brightened,  and  Clare's  countenance  flushed  with  ex- 
cited joy  as  she  heard  point  after  point  made  in  favor  of 
her  brother.  Nora  also  breathed  freer,  and  more  than  once 
in  the  ardor  of  her  feelings  she  forgot  herself  and  threw 
aside  her  veil,  only,  however,  to  drop  it,  abashed,  when  she 


3$a  CARROLL  &DONOQHUB. 

caught  some  curious  eyes  fixed  upon  her.  But  there  was  one 
in  the  thickest  of  the  crowd  to  whom  the  progress  of  the  trial 
afforded  only  disappointment  and  bitterness — Morty  Carter ; 
his  scowling,  empurpled  face,  empurpled  from  his  secret  rage, 
betrayed  plainly  the  purport  of  his  feelings. 

The  case  was  at  length  adjourned  until  the  following  day. 

Rick  and  Nora  hurried  out,  mingling  with  the  crowd  which 
pressed  about  them  until  they  could  find  an  opportunity  of 
turning  down  one  of  the  obscure  side  streets  that  led  to  their 
home  ;  while  Father  Meagher  and  Clare,  loth  to  return  with- 
out some  information  of  Nora,  again  sought  Mrs.  Murphy, 
thinking  to  glean  by  further  questioning  some  clew  which 
might  lead  them  to  her  whereabouts.  But  this  visit  was  as 
fruitless  as  the  former  one  had  been  ;  the  kind-hearted  land- 
lady had  nothing  more  to  communicate  than  a  glowing  eulo- 
gium  on  Nora's  sweetness  of  manner,  her  own  reflections  on 
the  contrast  presented  by  the  father  and  daughter,  and  upon 
their  apparent  poverty.  She  was  about  to  reveal,  as  she  had 
already  been  on  the  point  of  doing  that  morning,  how  the 
young  lady  had  been  obliged  to  dispose  of  some  of  her  ward- 
robe, but  she  remembered  in  season  her  promise  of  secrecy 
regarding  that  matter — a  promise  which  Nora,  probably  fore- 
seeing this  visit  of  her  friends,  had  exacted.  So  the  two  anx- 
ious inquirers  with  very  sad  hearts  turned  their  faces  toward 
Dhrommacohol,  which  they  would  leave  again  for  Tralee  on 
the  next  morning.  Father  Meagher  anxiously  thought  what 
forces  he  could  exert  in  order  to  find  Nora.  He  fancied  he 
knew  the  cause  of  her  silence,  and  her  mysterious  disappear- 
ance— that  both  were  due  to  the  wretched  haunt  to  which 
Rick  had  gone,  and  to  which  she,  in  her  noble  devotion,  had 
accompanied  him.  His  heart  burned  with  indignation  for  a 
moment  against  Rick ;  but  the  next  instant  his  anger  softened, 
for  the  image  of  the  poor  creature,  as  he  had  looked  when 
kneeling  in  the  study  pleading  his  love  for  his  child,  rose  be- 
fore him,  and  the  tender-hearted  priest  murmured  a  prayer  foi 
Nora's  protection,  and  for  poor,  miserable  Rick's  conversion 


CARTER  REPULSED.  36 j 

Nora  was  alone,  thinking  of  the  trial  of  the  morning ;  every 
word  of  the  evidence  seemed  burned  upon  her  brain,  and 
though  her  fingers  rapidly  plied  the  needle  which  formed 
such  shining  stitches  in  her  skillful  work,  her  industry  was  en- 
tirely mechanical — her  thoughts  were  so  distant  ftom  her  em- 
ployment, and  they  were  so  wild  and  troubled. 

Rick  had  left  her  after  their  little  frugal  meal,  which  her 
hands  had  prepared,  to  seek  the  pittance  that  he  sometimes 
earned,  and  she  had  full  scope  for  all  her  unhappy  reflections. 
She  was  suddenly  startled  by  a  rap  ;  no  visitors  ever  came  to 
them,  and  with  a  wildly  bounding  heart  she  answered  the 
summons.  It  was  Morty  Carter.  He  was  smiling,  fulsome, 
and  arrayed  in  such  elegance  as  his  own  vulgar  taste  dictated. 
Nora  shrunk  from  him  in  alarm  and  horror.  He  pursued  her 
into  the  room,  first  turning  to  close  the  door  behind  him. 

"Miss  McCarthy — pardon  me,  Miss  Sullivan — do  not  fear 
me  ;  I  intend  you  no  harm.  Listen  " — as  she  still  cowered 
from  him,  retreating  to  the  farthest  corner  of  the  apartment, 
— "  I  have  come  to  save  you,  to  rescue  you  from  poverty, 
from  shame.  Be  my  wife — fly  with  me,  Nora,  and  you  shall 
have  all  that  money  can  furnish  !  I  have  already  riches,  and 
I  expect  still  more." 

He  paused  for  want  of  breath  to  continue.  Sudden  and 
almost  supernatural  courage  seemed  to  animate  the  girl ; 
ceasing  to  cower,  she  confronted  him  with  an  indignation  be- 
fore which  it  was  his  turn  to  quail  for  a  moment. 

"  Cease,  Mr.  Carter,  and  no  longer  disgrace  your  manhood  ; 
if  you  are  so  lost  to  honor  and  feeling  as  to  insult  an  unpro- 
tected woman,  I  have  courage  at  least  to  defy  you  !  "  She 
had  the  poise  of  a  queen,  the  courage  of  a  lioness.  "  Become 
your  wife  !  "  she  continued  ;  "  twice  before  you  have  made 
that  insulting  proffer,  and  twice  you  have  received  your 
answer.  To  save  me  !  from  what  would  you  save  me — my 
poverty  ? — it  is  honorable,  and  were  it  ten  times  as  great,  it 
would  be  far  preferable  to  the  fate  of  being  your  wife  : 
ihamc  ? — I  have  none,  sir,  save  the  shame  of  being  forced  t» 


j64  CARROLL  VDONOQHUK 

endure  your  presence.  Leave  me ! M  She  pointed  to  the 
door. 

"  Nora,  hear  me  !  "  He  approached  her,  attempting  to 
seize  her  hand.  She  receded  from  him,  maintaining  her  fear- 
less air. 

"  Stop  !  "  she  cried,  in  a  tone  that  he  was  forced  to  obey. 
"  Dare  but  to  lay  a  finger  upon  me,  and  Heaven  itself  will 
interpose  to  check  you  !  " 

At  that  instant  the  door  was  flung  suddenly  open,  and  Rick 
of  the  Hills  entered.  One  rapid  glance  conveyed  to  him  the 
meaning  of  the  scene.  "  Back  ! "  he  cried  to  Carter,  and 
his  threatening  brow  and  outstretched  hand  gave  a  fierce  and 
determined  meaning  to  his  words. 

"  Faith,  it's  a  pretty  touchy  pair  ye  are  !  "  said  Carter, 
endeavoring  to  hide  his  discomfiture  under  a  semblance  of 
humor ;  "  I  came  here  with  the  best  of  intentions,  and  this  is 
the  way  I'm  received — turned  out  before  I  have  time  to  state 
*he  object  of  my  visit.  Ugh  !  "  and  he  wiped  his  face  with 
a  handkerchief  whose  crimson  color  was  scarcely  deeper 
than  the  countenance  it  pressed. 

"  Why  have  you  come  ? "  demanded  Rick,  with  no  diminution 
of  his  stern  and  angry  manner ;  "  we  were  getting  on  well 
without  you,  and  we  do  not  need  you." 

There  was  a  hidden  significance  in  his  words  which  Carter 
too  well  understood. 

"  Oh,  come,  Mr.  Sullivan,"  he  said,  in  a  conciliatory  tone  ;  it 
was  the  first  time  he  had  ever  used  so  respectful  a  term  to 
Rick,  but  it  was  evidently  lost  upon  the  latter,  for  his  lip 
curled,  and  his  whole  haggard  face  expressed  his  disdain  of 
the  speaker.  "  Let  me  explain  myself,"  continued  Carter, 
assuming  his  blandest  air  ;  "  I  have  come  with  the  honorable 
purpose  of  a  gentleman  to  offer  to  you  both  a  life  of  inde- 
pendence and  comfort — it  requires  but  one  condition  :  that 
Nora  here  will  become  my  wife." 

Nora  sprung  to  Rick's  side  ;  for  the  first  time  since  he  had 
•o  sternly  forbade  her  to  touch  him,  her  hands  were  upon 


CARTER  REPULSED.  3<jj 

him,  clasping  his  arm.  "Father," — the  agony  in  her  voice 
pierced  the  heart  of  the  poor  wretch — "  do  not  let  him  longer 
insult  me — send  him  hence,  for  I  cannot  bear  this — indeed  I 
cannot ! " 

Her  appearance  attestetf  the  truth  of  her  words ;  her 
guddenly  acquired  strength  and  courage  had  as  suddenly  gone, 
and  her  pallid  face  and  trembling  form  told  of  the  painful 
reaction  which  had  followed. 

"  You  hear  your  answer,"  said  Rick,  "  and  I,  too,  bid  you 
begone ! " 

But  Carter  made  no  motion  to  obey.  He  evidently  did 
not  believe  in  Rick's  determination — he  could  not  realize  that 
Nora's  influence,  won  through  her  noble  devotion,  had  super- 
seded his  own  old,  evil  power  over  the  unhappy  creature,  and 
he  waited  with  a  brazen  confidence  of  being  still  able  to 
accomplish  the  object  of  his  visit. 

"  Go  to  your  own  room,"  whispered  Rick  to  Nora,  "  and 
leave  me  to  deal  with  this  man." 

Too  glad  to  obey,  the  excited  girl  flew  to  her  little  apart- 
ment, shutting  and  locking  the  door  upon  herself. 

The  two  men  confronted  each  other ;  Rick  hissed,  but  in 
too  low  a  tone  to  reach  her  who  had  just  left  them  :  "  Do  you 
believe  me  now,  Morty  Carter  ?  I  told  you  before  you  would 
never  win  her,  but  you  scouted  my  words." 

"  You  have  thwarted  me  !  "  answered  Carter,  in  as  low  a 
tone. 

"  Never  !  I  have  been  your  tool  up  to  the  present  moment, 
sending  my  soul  down  to  hell  for  your  promised  reward  ;  but 
your  purpose  is  to  prove  as  treacherous  to  me  as  you  have 
done  to  those  it  was  your  sworn  duty  to  defend." 

Carter  replied  doggedly  :  "  I  shall  keep  my  word  with  you 
when  Nora  consents  to  become  my  wife." 
"  She  will  never  become  such." 

"  She  will,"  was  the  angry,  but  still  cautiously-spoken  reply, 
"  if  you  will  leave  me  to  pursue  my  suit  without  your  inter- 
ference— in  a  word,  if  you  will  help  me," — and  the  little  ferret- 


3*6 


CARROLL  VDONOQHUS 


like  eyes  looked  significantly  into  the  wild  flashing  orbs  befora 
them. 

"  Never  !  "  hissed  Rick  ;  "  and  what  is  more,  I  shall  protect 
her  from  you  ;  there  is  many  a  crime  upon  my  soul,  Morty 
Carter,  but  the  sin  of  delivering  into  your  hands  so  pure  and 
noble  a  being  as  Nora  shall  not  stain  it.  In  everything  else 
I  have  done  your  bidding,  but  in  that  I  never  shall !  " 

"  And  what  of  Cathleen  ? "  said  Carter,  in  his  anger  slightly 
raising  his  voice. 

"  Not  even  for  her  shall  I  do  your  bidding  with  regard  to 
Nora  ! " 

Carter's  rage  seemed  beyond  his  control — his  large  form 
trembled,  and  his  hands,  according  to  their  wonted  habit, 
clutched  convulsively.  "  What  if  I  open  up  your  secrets  to 
the  world  ? "  he  hissed  ;  "  what  if  I  tear  off  the  mask  which 
you  now  wear  ? " 

"  I  could  not  be  more  wretched  than  I  am,"  was  the  reply ; 
"  I  have  tasted  so  much  bitterness  under  my  present  mask 
that  it  will  be  a  relief  to  tear  it  off.  I  grant  you  free  license 
to  pull  it  away,  Morty  Carter — to  publish  all  that  you  know  ; 
but  remember" —  for  an  instant  Rick  also  forgetfully  raised 
his  voice, — "  ihat  I  too  hold  secrets  which  the  world  shall 
have  ;  that  you  also  wear  a  mask  which  it  is  in  my  power  to 
tear  off  ! " 

Carter,  in  his  baffled  rage,  bit  his  lip  till  the  blood  came. 
"  Rick,"  said  he  at  last,  when  he  had  apparently  conquered 
himself,  "  I  have  been,  as  I  always  am,  too  hasty  with  you  ; 
turely  you  will  not  play  me  false — you  do  not  intend  to  desert 
me?" 

"  If  playing  you  false,  and  deserting  you,  means  saving  her 
from  your  insulting  presence  " — he  pointed  to  the  room  within 
which  Nora  had  locked  herself, — "  then  I  intend  to  do  both." 

Again  Carter  bit  his  lip.  "  You  will  not  help  me  to  press 
my  suit  ?  "  he  said  bitterly. 

Rick  shook  his  head. 

"What  has  changed  you,  Rick?  you  worked  in  accord 


CARTER  REPULSED.  3*f 

with  all  my  plans  until  this — this  one  last  stroke,  which  would 
bring  me  the  fulfillment  of  all  my  wishes,  and  you  the  posses- 
sion of  Cathleen." 

"  Would  you  know  what  has  changed  me,  Carter  ? — Nora's 
goodness.  I  have  looked  at  her  sometimes,  wondering  if  she 
were  not  more  an  angel  than  a  woman,  and  I  have  loathed 
myself  for  suffering  her  so  near  me  ! "  He  folded  his  arms, 
and  with  his  old  habit  let  his  head  fall  sadly  upon  his  breast. 

"  Well,  Rick,  bear  with  it  all  till  Carroll  O'Donoghue's  trial 
is  over ;  I  shall  not  intrude  my  presence  upon  your  home 
again  ;  and  here — take  this  money  ;  I  am  in  better  condition 
to  afford  it  than  I  was  when  you  last  asked  me  for  it."  He 
had  taken  his  porte-monnaie  out,  and  was  proceeding  to  open  it 

"  Put  your  purse  back,"  said  Rick,  "  we  want  none  of  your 
money  ;  when  I  asked  you  for  it,  you  drove  us  to  poverty,  and 
now  Nora  earns  for  us." 

Carter's  eyes  opened  to  a  wider  stare  than  from  their 
shrunken  size  they  seemed  able  to  do. 

"  It  is  true,"  continued  Rick,  replying  to  that  look  of  angry 
surprise  ;  "  and  were  it  in  your  power  to  offer  me  the  wealth 
of  Ireland's  bank,  Morty  Carter,  I  would  not  touch  a  ha'penny 
of  it ! " 

Without  a  word,  Carter  put  up  his  porte-monnaie,  gave  one 
look  toward  the  room  into  which  Nora  had  retired,  a  sharper 
look  at  Rick,  and  strode  toward  the  door  ;  on  the  threshold 
he  turned  to  say  :  "  When  you  think  better  of  this,  Rick,  you 
know  where  to  find  me."  He  hurried  out,  disappointment 
and  rage  choking  him,  and  he  loosened  his  cravat  and  flung 
his  coat  back,  as  if  he  would  thus  give  vent  to  his  bitter  and 
stifling  emotions.  "  At  least  I  can  crush  them,"  he  muttered, 
"  and  nothing  shall  stop  me  this  time — I  shall  crush  them  !  * 
He  ground  his  teeth  together  and  quickened  his  pace. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

A  CRIMINATING   PAPER. 

CARROLL  O'DONOGHUK  had  returned  to  his  cell,  weary  and 
dispirited,  on  the  first  day  of  his  trial  ;  he  was  not  buoyed  up 
by  the  hope  which  others  entertained  regarding  him — he  was 
scarcely  even  animated  by  it,  for  his  mind  was  racked  by  wild 
conjectures  about  Nora  :  that  she  was  ill  was  his  first  fear,  and 
he  tried  to  comfort  himself  by  thinking  that  if  it  was  very 
serious  Clare  would  not  have  left  her.  But  a  strange  misgiv- 
ing tormented  him — he  could  not  account  for  it,  he  could  not 
explain  it — he  only  knew  that  a  mysterious  fear  of  some  ill 
having  happened  pressed  upon  him,  and  he  passed  the  heavy 
hours  in  a  dispiriting  mood  which  he  could  neither  banish 
nor  lessen.  In  the  evening  of  that  day  his  cell  door  opened. 
and  Motty  Carter  was  admitted.  The  visit  was  like  a  ray 
from  Heaven  to  the  poor  prisoner — the  sight  of  one  whom  he 
deemed  so  true  to  his  interests — and  he  sprung  to  meet  him, 
his  face  aglow,  his  form  trembling  with  delighted  eagerness. 
Had  Carter  any  lingering  fear  of  his  treachery  having  been 
revealed  to  Carroll,  the  latter's  welcome  at  once  dissipated  it ; 
and  thus  re-assured,  he  returned  the  prisoner's  greeting  ap- 
parently with  all  the  warmth  of  a  sincere  affection. 

"  I  felt  you  would  come,  Morty,"  said  the  young  man,  "  and 
I  looked  for  you  every  day  since  the  night  of  my  unfortu- 
nate attempt  to  escape." 

"  Yes,"  answered  Carter ;  and  he  pretended  to  gasp,  as  if 
in  the  very  thought  of  his  failure  on  that  occasion  there  wa« 
a  threat  of  one  of  the  spasms  of  pain  which  Carroll  had  be- 
fore witnessed  ;  "  that  faithful  fellow,  Tighe  a  Vohr,  wai 
barely  in  time  to  warn  you  back  to  your  cell,  was  he  not  ?  I 
(368) 


A   CRlMUtATLNQ  PAPER. 


369 


do  not  know  how  I  should  have  managed  on  that  night  but 
for  him — the  discovery  of  my  plan  came  to  me  by  such  provi- 
dential chance,  and  there  seemed  to  be  no  way  to  get  you 
timely  word.  I  met  Tighe,  and  told  him  ;  in  a  moment  he 
had  an  idea,  and  you,  my  cjear  boy,  were  saved,  and  Tighe, 
as  he  always  does,  got  beautifully  out  of  the  difficulty." 

"  And  the  brave  fellows  who  were  waiting  without  for  me — 
what  of  them  ?  "  asked  Carroll. 

"They  have  been  sentenced  to  imprisonment  and  hard 
labor,  but  it  is  hoped  that  they  will  be  pardoned  before  the 
expiration  of  their  time." 

Carroll's  face  fell.  "  Could  I  suffer  entirely  alone,"  he  said 
sadly,  "  my  pain  would  lose  much  of  its  sting ;  but  when 
through  me  punishment  is  inflicted  upon  others,  it  is  a  double 
stab  to  my  own  heart,  Morty  !  "  His  tone  became  suddenly 
eager  :  "  You  were  in  the  court-room  to-day — tell  me  where 
was  Nora  ?  she  did  not  accompany  Father  Meagher  and  my 
sister." 

"  I  know  not,  my  dear  boy  ;  you  forget  that  I  am  banned 
by  all  save  you — that  my  presence  is  shunned  as  an  evil 
thing.  I  marked  her  absence,  but  I  did  not  dare  to  inquire 
the  cause." 

"  Ah,  yes  !  I  did  forget,"  replied  Carroll  sadly  ;  then,  as  if 
influenced  by  some  sudden  thought,  he  continued  :  "  But  you 
can  learn  from  Tighe — you  will  do  so,  and  you  will  let  me 
know  to-morrow — will  you,  Morty  ? "  speaking  with  renewed 
animation. 

"  Certainly,  my  dear  boy  ;  but  how  if  I  am  not  admitted  to 
your  cell  to-morrow — my  visit  to-night  has  cost  me  labor,  and 
time,  and  invention,  and  if  it  was  suspected  by  the  authori- 
ties that  I  was  friendly  to  your  interests,  your  prison  door 
would  be  as  closed  to  me  as  it  is  to  Father  Meagher  and  your 
sister.  You  know,  my  poor  fellow,  that  they  are  even  more 
particular  since  the  unfortunate  failure  of  that  attempt  to  es- 
cape— so  particular,  that  even  I,  with  all  the  influence  I 
thought  I  could  command,  was  unable  to  gain  access  to  you 
from  that  time  until  to-nieht ! " 


37o  CARROLL  0DONOQHITR 

Carroll  bowed  his  head  in  bitter  resignation. 

"Do  you  know,  my  dear  boy,"  continued  Carter,  "that 
the  strongest  hopes  are  entertained  of  your  case  ?  it  appears 
you  have  attracted  the  sympathy  and  interest  of  some  of  the 
highest  officials.  The  fact  of  your  having  remained  quietly 
in  your  cell,  as  it  has  appeared  on  your  trial  that  you  did, 
when  every  avenue  to  release  was  opened  before  you,  has  told 
wonderfully  in  your  favor  ;  and  it  is  a  current  belief  that  your 
sentence  will  be  comparatively  light.  In  view  of  that " — he 
drew  nearer  to  the  prisoner,  and  dropped  his  voice  to  still 
more  of  a  whisper, — "  the  boys  are  hopeful  of  your  speedy 
ultimate  escape — your  escape  in  time  to  take  an  active  part 
in  the  organization  which  is  going  rapidly  forward  in  America. 
When  that  was  proposed,"  Carter  continued,  "  proposed  as 
a  plan  which  would  insure  your  safety,  and  allow  scope  for 
your  patriotism,  one  dissenting  voice  was  raised — one  voice 
which  said :  '  Once  Carroll  O'Donoghue  is  free,  he  will 
gladly  bid  adieu  to  the  cause,  and  turn  his  face  to  America, 
for  the  sole  purpose  of  insuring  his  own  safety.'  " 

Carroll's  cheeks  hotly  flushed. 

"  I  gave  him  the  lie,  Carroll,"  Carter  continued,  "  I  hurled 
the  infamous  slander  in  his  teeth  ;  for  I  knew  my  own  boy 
too  well  not  to  swear  that  he  would  rot  in  his  prison,  aye,  die 
on  the  scaffold,  before  he  would  forsake  the  cause  of  his 
poor,  downtrodden  country  ! " 

"  And  you  did  well,  Morty  ;  I  thank  you  from  my  heart !  " 
And  the  poor  prisoner  warmly  shook  both  of  his  visitor's 
hands. 

"  I  did  more,  Carroll :  I  swore  to  them  that  I  would  bring, 
written  in  your  own  hand,  an  expression  of  your  sentiments 
which  should  give  the  lie  to  this  libel  upon  your  character — 
I  promised  them  that  they  should  read  for  themselves  the 
heart  of  the  man  who  was  thus  cowardly  defamed  ! " 

M  Instantly,  Morty ;  you  shall  bear  back  to  them  how  un- 
changed are  my  feelings — how  deep  is  my  love  for  Ireland  !  " 
He  bounded  from  his  seat  in  pained  and  angry  excitement, 


A   CRIMINATING  PAPER. 


371 


but  suddenly  stopped  short,  exclaiming  in  a  vexed  and  disap- 
pointed tone  :  "  I  cannot  write — I  have  no  materials  !  " 

"  I  have  them,"  said  Carter,  and  he  pulled  pen,  ink  and 
paper  from  one  of  his  breast  pockets  ;  "  knowing  what  I 
should  ask  of  you,  how  coflld  you  think  I  would  come  un- 
provided ? " 

The  feeble  rays  of  the  little  lamp  afforded  scarcely  sufficient 
light  for  Carroll  to  pen  the  burning  words  which  sprung  from 
his  heart,  but  he  wrote  them,  however,  in  large,  trembling 
characters,  and  handed  them  to  his  visitor. 

The  latter  read  them,  pretending,  when  he  had  finished  the 
perusal,  to  be  too  deeply  affected  to  speak ;  and  he  folded 
the  paper  and  put  it  carefully  into  his  bosom. 

"  The  name  of  the  man  who  thought  I  could  be  thus  false  ?  " 
demanded  the  prisoner. 

"  One  who  does  not  personally  know  you — a  late-comer 
into  the  circle,  and  whose  opinion  was  probably  based  upon 
the  fact  of  your  willingness  to  be  smuggled  to  America  ;  but 
his  conjecture  seemed  to  acquire  weight  with  others  like  him- 
self, and,  in  order  to  give  the  whole  a  direct  lie,  it  entered  in- 
to my  mind  to  say  to  them  what  I  have  told  you.  I  must 
leave  now  " — consulting  his  watch, — "  and  I  shall  allow  no 
stone  to  remain  unturned  in  the  effort  which  I  shall  make  to 
get  you  some  word  of  Nora  to-morrow  ;  so  keep  up  your 
courage,  and  all  will  be  well."  He  wrung  the  prisoner's  hand, 
signaled  for  egress,  and  departed. 

Another  day  of  the  trial  passed,  having,  however,  no  very 
marked  result.  A  number  of  witnesses  were  questioned 
and  cross-questioned,  and  an  amount  of  evidence  elicited,  but 
nothing  to  prove  decisively,  as  the  counsel  for  the  crown 
labored  hard  to  do,  the  identification  of  the  prisoner  with  fresh 
treason  since  his  escape  from  Australia.  Again  there  was  an 
adjournment  of  the  case,  and  the  people  poured  forth,  Rick 
and  Nora,  as  on  a  previous  occasion,  hurrying  to  escape 
notice,  and  Father  Meagher  and  Clare  hastening  to  take  thf 
car  back  to  DhrommacohoL 


37' 


CARROLL  VDONOGIIUB. 


For  the  first  time  in  his  life  Tighe  a  Vohr,  during  these  two 
days  of  the  trial,  had  avoided  being  seen  by  the  priest  and 
Clare.  Watching  them  from  an  obscure  corner  of  the  court- 
room, noting  Nora's  absence  with  as  heavy  a  heart  as  that 
which  was  borne  by  those  who  so  fondly  loved  her,  and  read- 
ing in  the  faces  of  the  clergyman  and  his  fair  companion  a 
touching  grief  and  anxiety,  he  shrunk  from  meeting  them,  for 
he  felt,  to  express  his  own  words  :  "  that  he  should  only  make 
a  fool  o'  himsel*  with  his  blubbering."  And  now  that  he  was 
unable  to  help  his  beloved  young  master,  to  speak  a  word  of 
hope  to  the  tender  hearts  he  would  have  comforted,  he  felt 
alone  like  hiding  himself,  and  telling  his  grief  to  dumb  affec- 
tionate Shaun.  Father  Meagher  fain  would  have  found  Tighe 
a  Vohr,  feeling  that  the  latter's  shrewdness  and  wit  would  be 
effectual  in  discovering  Nora ;  but  Tighe  had  too  securely 
hidden  himself,  and  the  anxious  clergyman,  and  his  equally 
anxious  companion,  turned  their  faces  dejectedly  homeward. 

Toward  the  evening  of  that  day  Tighe  suddenly  encoun- 
tered Captain  Dennier,  in  the  dress  of  a  civilian,  and  just 
issuing  from  the  coftee-room  of  the  "  Blennerhasset  Arms." 

"  Why,  Tighe,  my  faithful  fellow,  how  are  you  ?  "  and  the 
shapely  hand  of  the  aristocratic  gentleman  seized  Tighe's 
brown,  hard  palm  in  a  cordial  clasp.  "  I  have  just  returned 
from  Dublin,"  the  captain  continued,  "  and  I  intend  to  re- 
main a  few  days — I  am  stopping  here," — glancing  at  the  hotel. 

Tighe's  eyes  were  wandering  with  a  surprised  look  over  the 
civilian  dress.  Captain  Dennier  understood  the  look. 

"Ah  I "  he  said,  smiling,  "  I  am  a  man  again  you  see,  Tighe, 
and  not  an  officer — having  resigned  her  Majesty's  service,  I 
am  no  longer  Captain  Dennier." 

Tighe  a  Vohr's  eyes  and  mouth  opened  in  astonishment. 

"Never  mind  being  so  surprised  about  it,"  laughed  the 
gentleman,  "  but  tell  me  how  you  have  been  getting  on." 

"  Sorry  enough,"  answered  Tighe ;  "  Major  Claptail  " — 
from  the  first  Tighe  had  ludicrously  twisted  the  name,  much 
to  the  amusement  of  the  military  subordinates — "  hasn't  thf 


A  CRIMINATING  PAPER.  3?3 

regard  for  Shaun  that  yer  honor  had  ;  but  how  an'  iver,  it'll  do 
— mebbe  there's  worse  places  than  Claptail's  !  " 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  it,"  said  Dennier,  laughing. 

Tighe  looked  as  if  he  would  like  to  say  something,  but 
lacked  the  courage  ;  he  glaWed  into  the  gentleman's  face, 
then  down  to  the  ground,  then  on  all  sides  of  him,  with  a  puz- 
zled, somewhat  confused  air,  and  all  the  time  he  worked  his 
hands  in  a  bashful,  awkward  way. 

The  captain  seemed  to  divine  his  desire,  for  after  watching 
him  a  moment,  he  said  :  "  Can  I  do  anything  for  you,  Tighe  ?  " 

Tighe  a  Vohr's  face  brightened.  "  You  can  that,  Captain 
Dennier — forgive  me  for  givin'  you  yer  title  shtill,  but  it 
comes  readiest  to  me  tongue  :  if  you'll  get  permission  from  the 
governor  o'  the  jail  for  me  to  see  the  prisoner,  Mr.  O'Donoghue, 
I'll  pray,  yer  honor,  that  yer  sowl  may  be  in  Heaven  afore  yer 
fate  are  cowld  I  " 

The  young  man  did  not  answer  for  a  moment ;  then,  passing 
his  hand  over  his  face  as  if  he  would  thus  brush  away  some 
painful  thought,  he  said  :  "  You  are  deeply  interested  in  thig 
poor  prisoner,  Tighe  ?  " 

The  tone  in  which  the  last  remark  was  made,  the  expression 
in  the  dark  eyes  of  the  speaker,  convinced  Tighe  of  what  he 
had  for  some  time  suspected — that  the  young  ex-officer  was 
well-nigh  as  deeply  interested  in  the  poor  prisoner  as  was 
Tighe  himself. 

"  I  am,  yer  honor,  an'  it'll  make  me  heart  as  loight  as  a 
feather  to  see  him  once  more  ! " 

"  Come  with  me,"  said  the  gentleman,  "  and  I  shall  see  what 
I  can  do  for  you."  He  turned  abruptly,  and  walked  with  a 
rapid  pace  in  the  direction  of  the  jail.  Tighe  followed,  wait- 
ing, when  they  had  arrived  at  the  prison,  in  one  of  the  outer 
rooms,  while  Dennier  was  closeted  with  the  governor.  In  a 
comparatively  short  time  the  order  came  for  Tighe  a  Vohr  to 
be  conducted  to  Carroll's  cell 

The  poor,  pale  prisoner  started  up  with  wild  delight  when 
he  beheld  his  visitor.  "  Tighe,  my  faithful,  faithful  Tighe  a 


J74  CARROLL  VDONOQHUJl 

Vohr  ! "  Emotion  would  let  him  say  no  more,  and  the  affec- 
tionate Tighe  was  as  deeply  affected.  "  Morty,  1  suppose,  hai 
sent  you,"  Carroll  said,  when  he  recovered  his  voice ;  "  he 
promised  to  leave  no  stone  unturned  in  his  efforts  to  get  me 
word  of  Nora — he  said  he  would  find  you,  and  learn  from 
you  of  her  whereabouts  ;  and  I  suppose,  as  he  could  not  come 
himself  to  me,  he  has  managed  to  gain  admission  for  you." 

"  Is  it  Morty  Carther  you  mane  ?  "  replied  Tighe,  contempt- 
uously,— "  that  ould  thraitor  to  get  lave  for  me  to  visit  yer 
cell !  faith,  it's  chokin'  me,  an'  not  wid  butther  aythur,  he'd 
rather  be  doin'  this  minit !  " 

"  Tighe,"  said  Carroll,  sternly,  "  do  you,  too,  believe  the 
lies  that  have  been  told  of  poor  Carter  ?  I  thought,  from  the 
very  fact  of  his  deputing  you  to  warn  me  not  to  escape  the 
other  night,  that  you,  at  least,  were  his  friend  !  " 

Tighe's  face  twisted  itself  into  a  most  comical  expression, 
and  his  lips  emitted  a  half-suppressed  whistle,  meant  to  be 
expressive  of  his  amazement  at  the  revelation  which  had  burst 
suddenly  and  clearly  upon  him.  "  Oh  !  that's  it !  "  he  said, 
lengthening  each  word, — "  so  that  ould  knave  has  been  here, 
jist  as  I  thought  he  would,  playin'  his  double  game  upon  you  ! 
Tell  me,  masther,  dear,  what  he  said  to  you." 

"  Now,  Tighe,  this  is  too  bad — that  you  too  should  believe 
these  infamous  slanders  of  the  poor  fellow  !  He  has  proved 
himself  my  more  than  friend,  not  alone  in  planning  my  escape 
the  other  night,  but  in  taking  care  of  my  reputation  with 
those  who  should  think  better  things  of  me  !  "  and  then,  not 
deeming  that  the  former  pledge  of  secrecy  which  Carter  had 
extracted  from  him  was  binding  in  this  instance,  he  detailed 
the  whole  of  his  interview  with  Carter,  even  to  the  recounting 
of  the  contents  of  the  paper  which  he  had  given  to  the 
miscreant. 

"  Och,  masther  dear,  you  are  lost  !  "  and  Tighe,  in  his  agony, 
was  on  his  knees  at  Carroll's  feet ;  "  that  paper '11  be  used  agin 
you  on  the  thrial — you're  gone — you're  gone  !  "  The  blub- 
bering of  which  the  poor  fellow  seemed  to  be  so  much  afraid 
•a  other  occasions,  now  earnestly  beean. 


A  CRIMINATING  PAPER.  37J 

"Hush!"  commanded  Carroll,  "  and  stop  this  instantly; 
you  are  letting  your  heart  run  away  with  your  head.  I  tell 
you,  Tighe,  Morty  is  as  true  to  my  interests  as  you  are — he 
has  sworn  it  to  me  here ;  and  when  I  remember  his  distress 
when  he  detailed  to  me  those  wretched  reports,  I  am  more 
than  convinced.  No  !  "  waxing  warmer  in  his  defense, — "  it  is 
horribly  false — I  shall  not  believe  a  word  of  it  !  " 

"  Sworn  to  you,"  repeated  Tighe  ;  "  sure  that  ould  thraitor 
no  more  moinds  the  takin'  o'  a  false  oath  than  I'd  moind 
callin'  Shaun  to  me  !  oh,  masther  dear,  listen  to  me  while  I 
tell  you  !  " 

"  I'll  listen  to  nothing,"  interrupted  Carroll ;  "  you  shall  not 
say  one  word  against  him  in  my  presence  ! " 

"  Och,  wirra  asthru  !  but  what'll  become  o'  us  all  ? "  and 
Tighe  wrung  his  hands  in  fruitless  agony. 

"  Come,  Tighe,"  said  his  master  soothingly,  "  stop  this  folly, 
und  tell  me  about  Nora." 

"  I  can't,"  answered  Tighe  sadly,  shaking  his  head. 

The  prisoner's  wildest  alarm  was  immediately  aroused. 
"  Tighe " — placing  his  hand  heavily  on  Tighe  a  Vohr's 
shoulder, — "  I  beg  of  you — I  command  you — to  tell  me  of 
Nora  1  she  is  dead  ? "  he  almost  screamed,  as  Tighe,  still 
refusing  to  speak,  continued  to  shake  his  head.  "  Tell  me," 
he  pleaded  ;  "  I  shall  go  mad  if  you  do  not  speak ! " 

Tighe  could  not  longer  resist  that  frenzied  entreaty,  and  he 
blurted  out :  "  Rick  o'  the  Hills  came  an*  claimed  her  at 
his  daughther,  an*  she  has  gone  to  live  wid  him." 

The  tidings  seemed  to  paralyze  the  poor  prisoner — for  a 
moment  he  could  not  speak  ;  and  Tighe  slightly  shrunk  before 
the  wild,  burning  gaze  of  his  large  bright  eyes.  "  Rick  of  tht 
Hills  Nora's  father,  and  she  has  gone  to  live  with  him  I  "  he 
repeated  slowly  at  last.  "  Oh,  God  ! "  He  held  his  clasped 
hands  before  his  face,  as  if  he  would  shut  out  the  sight  of  hia 
beautiful,  peerless  affianced  being  the  daily  companion  of 
such  a  man. 

"Don't  take  on  so,  masther  dear!"  said  Tighe,  dashing 


37g  CARROLL  VDONOQHUR 

away  the  big  tears  which  filled  his  eyes  ;  "  I'm  sure  her  love 
for  you  is  none  the  liss,  an*  it's  tramplin'  on  her  heart  she  if 
in  tfce  givin'  up  o'  you." 

"  Giving  up  of  me!"  dashing  his  hands  from  his  face,  and 
speaking  in  a  terrified  tone — "  why  should  she  give  me  up  ? " 

"  Don't  you  undhersthand  it,  masther  dear  ?  she  has  such 
foinc,  noble  falin's  that  she  wouldn't  have  you  marry  her  now 
whin  she's  his  daughther." 

A  new  light  shone  in  Carroll's  eyes,  a  new  expression  came 
into  his  face,  as  if  he  had  made  some  sudden  discovery. 
"  Tighe,"  he  said,  seizing  the  latter's  two  hands,  "  see  Nora 
for  me,  and  tell  her  that  if  she  would  break  my  heart,  if  she 
would  see  the  grave  close  upon  me  before  even  the  scaffold 
can  claim  its  victim,  to  persist  in  this  cruel  determination  ; 
tell  her  that  she  would  be  the  same  to  me  though  her  parents 
might  be  the  vilest  in  God's  creation  ;  tell  her  that  my  love  is 
for  herself,  and  that  it  is  as  unchangeable  as  eternity  ! " 

"  I  will,  I  will,  masther  dear  !  "  said  Tighe,  and  anxious  to 
break  from  so  harrowing  a  scene,  he  was  scarcely  sorry  that 
the  guard  was  at  the  door  announcing  that  the  time  allotted 
for  the  visit  was  ended.  With  an  embrace  from  which  both 
parted  with  moist  eyes,  Tighe  tore  himself  away. 


CHAPTER  XLVL 

A   BOLD   VENTURE. 

'j  TTSIDE  the  prison  wall  Tighe  paused  for  a  moment  to  de- 
lit crate  ;  then  he  hurried  in  the  direction  of  the  "  Blenner- 
hasset  Arms."  He  found,  to  his  satisfaction,  that  Captain 
Dennier,  as  the  gentleman  was  still  to  Tighe,  had  already  re- 
turned to  the  hotel,  and  on  learning  of  the  latter's  desire  to 
see  him,  ordered  that  he  should  be  immediately  admitted  to 
him. 

"  You  saw  the  prisoner  ?  "  questioned  the  gentleman,  won- 
dering a  little  what  could  be  the  purport  of  this  evidently  hur- 
ried visit. 

"  I  did,  an'  I'm  viry  thankful  to  yer  honor  for  the  great 
favor  you  done  me  ;  but  I've  a  quistion  to  ax,  an'  the  answer- 
in'  o'  it,  if  yer  honor  doesn't  considher  it  too  bould,  '11  be  a 
great  settlemint  o'  me  falin's." 

"  Well,  Tighe,  what  is  it  ? " 

"  Supposin'  now,  Captain  Dennier,  that  an  informer — a  man 
who  was  playin'  a  double  part,  purtindin'  to  be  the  frind  o' 
the  prisoner  an'  the  frind  o'  the  governmint, — was  to  go  into 
the  poor,  unsuspectin'  prisoner  an'  to  win  from  him  in  writin* 
a  shtatemint  that's  enough  to  hang  the  poor  craythur — sup- 
posin',  now,  that  was  done  late  this  afthernoon,  in  view  o'  the 
thrial  that'll  be  goin'  on  to-morrow,  could  the  informer  make 
use  o'  that  paper  to-noight,  or  would  he  be  loikely  to  kape  it 
till  the  mornin'  ?  " 

A  peculiar  smile  played  upon  Captain  Dennier's  features 
"  I  think  I  can  read  your  riddle,Tighe,"  he  said :  "  some 
informer  has  won  admission  to  Mr.  O'Donoghuc,  and  ob- 
tained the  statement  of  which  you  speak ;  and  you  think 
(377) 


378  CARROLL  &DONOGHUX. 

if  the  paper  does  not  leave  the  informer's  possession  until  tht 
morning  you  shall  be  able  perhaps  to  get  it." 

"  Faith  yer  honor  has  the  clarest  head  for  guissin'  o'  anj 
gintleman  in  the  counthry — that's  jist  it  ?  I'll  make  no  con- 
calemint  o'  the  matther,  for  I  know  I  can  thrust  yer  honor." 

"  Well,  Tighe,  this  informer,  whoever  he  be,  will  rather  b« 
obliged  to  retain  the  paper  until  the  morning,  for  the  authori- 
ties to  whom  he  might  give  it  would  hardly  suffer  themselvet 
to  be  disturbed  by  such  business  after  hours,  and  especially  ai 
it  is  a  matter  that  can  be  attended  to  as  well  in  the  morn- 
ing." 

"  Thank  yer  honor — I'm  grateful  intoirely,  an'  me  loife- 
long  prayer'll  be  that  you  may  proshper  in  love  an'  war  I  " 

"  What  is  it  you  propose  doing  ?  "  asked  Dennier. 

"  Plaze  don't  ax  me,  yer  honor,  for  I  haven't  it  well  settled 
yet — it's  only  a  thought,  but  I'll  thry  what's  in  it." 

"  Well,  Tighe,  you  have  my  best  wishes  for  its  success  !  * 
and  Dennier  turned  away,  his  mind  suddenly  reverting  to  tha 
story  which  Tighe  had  told  of  how  his  exit  from  the  jail  yard 
had  been  effected  on  the  night  of  the  attempted  release  of  th& 
prisoner,  and  for  the  first  time  the  truth  of  the  matter  flashed 
upon  him.  "  Ah  !  "  he  said  to  himself,  "  that  was  all  a  pre- 
concerted plan  of  this  faithful  fellow,  and  I  doubt  not,  as  he 
succeeded  in  that,  so  will  he  succeed  in  the  carrying  out  of 
this  '  thought,'  as  he  calls  it.  Well,  Carroll  O'Donoghue  has 
a  truer  follower  than  it  is  the  good  fortune  of  most  men  to 
find." 

Tighe,  not  even  pausing  to  call  for  Shaun,  who  had  been 
confined,  very  unwillingly,  the  greater  part  of  the  day  in  the 
barracks,  hastened  to  the  abode  of  Corny  OToole.  He  had 
absented  himself  from  the  little  man  for  some  days,  fearing 
that  the  latter  might  have  received  an  indignant  answer  to  his 
letter  to  Mrs.  Carmody,  for  since  the  old  woman  had  an- 
nounced her  intention  of  taking  it  to  Father  Meagher,  Tighe 
a  Vohr  well  knew  that  his  reverence  would  be  good-natured 
enough  to  write  a  replv  which  would  give  entire  satisfaction  tc 


A  BOLD   VENTURE.  3?9 

his  mother.  And  his  fear  with  regard  to  Corny  was  verified,  for 
Tighe  was  not  well  within  the  room  when  the  little  man,  with 
most  woe-begone  face  and  distressing  air,  drew  forth  Father 
Meagher's  missive  written  in  behalf  of  Mrs.  Mollie  Carmody, 
and  he  read  it  for  Tighe. 

"  Tut,  tut,"  said  Tighe  a  Vohr,  "  is  that  all  that  ails  you  ? 
Why  thin,  Corny  O'Toole,  is  it  you  that's  in  it  to  be  cast  dowa 
be  thim  few  words  ?  why,  man  aloive  !  where's  yer  brains  ? 
don't  you  see  it's  the  praste  that  writes  that  ?  sure  she'd  be 
ashamed  to  let  his  riverince  know  that  she'd  be  think- 
in'  o'  marryin'  agin  ;  an'  thin  she  was  vexed  that  you'd  put 
the  loike  o'  what  you  did  in  writin'  whin  you  knowed  she 
hadn't  larnin'  enough  to  rade  it.  No,  Corny  ;  it's  go  to  her 
you  should,  an*  tell  her  wid  yer  own  captivatin'  tongue  the 
falin's  you  have  for  her  ;  but  it's  not  too  late  yet,  me  boy— 
you'll  do  the  business  roight  afther  awhile  or  so,  an'  one  o' 
these  days  we'll  have  a  tarin'  weddin'  down  there  in  Dhrom- 
macohol,  wid  Father  Meagher  to  do  the  jinin'  o'  the  couple — 
eh,  Corny  ?  "  and  a  vigorous  slap  between  Corny's  shoulders 
gave  evidence  of  the  speaker's  energy. 

The  little  man  brightened  ;  once  more  hope  rilled  his  heart, 
and  his  melancholy  air  gave  place  to  sudden  liveliness. 

"  I  have  business  on  hand,"  said  Tighe,  assuming  a  serious 
tone,  "and  I  want  your  help,  Corny."  He  dropped  his 
voice,  and  detailed  the  plan  which  he  had  conceived  for  the 
foiling  of  Carter. 

"  It  is  a  great  undertaking,"  said  Corny. 

"  But  I'll  do  it,"  repeated  Tighe,  "  if  you'll  sthand  by  me." 

"  Never  fear  me,  Tighe — I'll  do  my  part !  " 

Then  followed  whispered  directions  from  Tighe  a  Vohr,  to 
which  Corny  nodded  assent,  and  when  the  whispering  ceased 
the  little  man  departed  on  some  errand. 

Tighe  proceeded  to  make  sundry  changes  in  his  toilet,  don- 
ning some  of  Corny's  garments,  and  in  his  efforts  to  increase 
their  length,  stretching  and  tugging  at  them  till  the  well-worn 
material  gave  way  and  left  rents  which  it  taxed  his  ingenuity 


jSo  CARROLL  VDQNOQHUB. 

to  conceal.  When  at  length  he  was  fully  dressed,  the  sight 
which  he  presented  was  such  as  to  make  himself  burst  into  a 
fit  of  hearty  laughter — his  pantaloons  were  so  short  as  to  ap- 
pear like  knee-breeches,  only  cut  oddly  out  of  the  style  of  that 
garment,  while  their  extreme  width  about  the  upper  part  of 
the  body  gave  a  most  comical  rotundity  to  Tighe's  slender 
person.  The  coat  was  wide  enough  to  look  as  if  the  wind 
might  blow  him  out  of  it,  while  at  the  same  time  it  was  so 
short  in  the  body  that  its  swallow  tails  were  but  little  below 
the  wearer's  waist.  One  of  Corny's  slouched,  low-crowned 
hats  covered  Tighe's  brown  curls,  and  being  pulled  forward, 
somewhat  concealed  his  face.  The  little  man  on  his  return 
expressed  his  admiration  of  the  change  which  had  been  ef- 
fected, and  he  proceeded  to  give  Tighe  a  little  package,  which 
the  latter  immediately  opened,  saying  : 

"  Now,  Corny,  while  I'm  busy  wid  this,  do  you  write  what 
we  were  spakin'  av." 

Mr.  O'Toole  sat  down  to  his  table,  covered  as  usual  with 
literary  appurtenances,  and  Tighe  proceeded  deftly  to  dye  his 
face  and  hands.  Both  tasks  were  completed  about  the  same 
time,  and  the  little  man,  with  his  usual  dramatic  gesture,  read 
this  latest  production  of  his  imagined  wonderful  genius. 
Tighe  expressed  his  satisfaction,  and  after  a  brief  delay  while 
Mr.  O'Toole  waa  busy  with  his  toilet,  only  to  the  extent,  how- 
ever, of  polishing  his  face  with  soap  and  water,  and  brushing 
his  hair,  the  two  went  forth  together. 

"  You  know  where  he  stops  ? "  questioned  Corny. 

"  Yes  ;  didn't  Mr.  Hoolahan  say  the  addhress  to  me  the 
day  all  the  perlace  was  af  ther  me,  whin  the  wimen  in  the  kitchen 
dhressed  me  loike  one  o'  thimsel's  ? " 

"  And  if  he's  not  in  ? "  said  Corny  again. 

"  Thin  we'll  wait,  if  we  wait  till  mornin'  for  him." 

Mr.  O'Toole  went  in  alone  to  the  house  in  which  Morty 
Carter  lodged,  and  was  met  by  the  information  that  Mr. 
Carter  had  not  been  in  all  day.  He  repaired  without  to  re» 
port  to  Tighe. 


A  BOLL    VENTURE.  3gf 

"  Well,"  was  the  latter's  answer,  "  you  wait  widin  for  him, 
an'  I'll  watch  for  him  here,  so  that  I'll  know  whin  he  inters, 
an'  I'll  be  on  hand  for  you  to  call  me  whin  you're  ready." 

Corny  went  back  to  wait  in  the  little  untidy  parlor,  and  an 
hour  before  midnight  Carter  returned,  somewhat  under  the 
influence  of  liquor.  He  scowled  at  the  queer  little  figure 
which  presented  itself  before  him,  but  Corny,  with  his  most 
polite  air,  bowed  and  said  :  "  Mr.  Carter,  I  believe." 

"  Yes,"  was  the  gruffly  spoken  response ;  "  what  is  your 
business  with  me  ?  " 

"  I  think  this  will  tell  you  quicker  and  better  than  words  " 
— and  Corny  proffered  the  paper  which  he  had  written  in  obedi- 
ence to  Tighe's  direction. 

Carter  took  it,  walking  unsteadily  to  the  light,  and  read 
with  strained  eyes  the  following  : 

"  MR.  CARTER  : 

The  bearer  can  give  you  information  of  the 
Fenian  document  which  has  been  missing  from  the  recent 
trials  ;  he  will  confer  with  you,  and  if  you  can  come  to  rea- 
sonable terms,  he  will  let  you  have  possession  of  it,  as  it  will 
be  of  great  importance  on  the  present  trial." 

There  was  neither  signature  nor  date. 

Carter's  little  eyes  lost  their  half-drunken  stare,  and  snapped 
with  eagerness  ;  he  was  all  aglow  in  a  moment.  "  Who  are 
you  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Never  mind  who  I  am,"  responded  Corny,  speaking  in  a 
whisper  ;  "  the  document  was  got  from  Tighe  a  Vohr,  and  if 
you  will  take  me  where  we  can  be  more  private  than  this, 
we'll  talk  over  the  matter  ;  I  have  a  grudge  against  that  same 
Tighe  a  Vohr,  and  glad  enough  I  am  to  have  an  opportunity 
for  a  little  revenge  !  " 

"  Come  up-stairs  to  my  room,"  said  Carter,  who  seemed  to 
have  become  sober  at  once  ;  and  he  led  the  way  rapidly  to 
his  own  apartment. 

"You  see,  Mr.  Carter,"  said  Corny,  in  a  tone  of  eager  con- 
fidence,  when  both  were  seated,  "  there  were  two  of  us  con- 


33t  CARROLL  VDONOGHUK 

cerned  in  the  stealing  of  that  document  from  Tighe  a  Vohr ; 
and  my  friend,  who  holds  it,  isn't  willing  to  let  it  go  without 
making  something  by  it — and  as  it's  of  importance  for  thia 
trial  against  the  prisoner,  he  thought  you'd  be  willing  to  pay 
•cmething  for  it" 

"  How  much  does  your  friend  want  ?  "  asked  Carter,  his 
anxiety  betraying  itself  in  his  voice. 

"  Well,  how  much  would  you  be  willing  to  give  ? — or,  stay 
a  moment — perhaps  I  could  induce  him  to  come  up  and  see 
you.  He's  a  queer,  shy  fellow,  and  he  wouldn't  come  in  with 
me  ;  but  he's  waiting  for  me  at  the  corner  beyond.  May  be  I 
could  get  him  to  come  up — shall  I  try  ?  " 

"  I'll  go  down  with  you,"  said  Carter,  rising,  and  looking 
for  his  hat 

"  It  wouldn't  do,"  answered  Corny ;  "  if  he  saw  you  with 
me,  he's  such  a  frightened,  nervous  fellow,  he'd  think  may  be 
you  were  going  to  force  him  into  giving  the  paper,  or  that  you 
were  going  to  set  the  law  on  him — no  ;  the  only  way  is  to  let 
me  try  and  bring  him  up." 

"  Well,"  said  Carter,  resuming  his  seat,  "  do  so." 

Corny  feigned  to  be  calm,  and  even  slow,  about  his  move- 
ments, shutting  the  door  of  Carter's  room  behind  him,  and 
descending  the  stair  as  if  the  semi-darkness — the  entry  light 
had  not  been  quite  extinguished,  out  of  respect  to  Mr.  Carter's 
visitor — caused  him  to  grope  and  stumble.  He  met  Tighe 
directly  without  the  hall  door. 

"  It's  all  right,  so  far,"  he  whispered ;  "  he's  waiting  for 
you  to  come  up,  in  order  to  make  terms  for  the  document" 

They  both  entered  the  house,  Corny  leading  the  way  to 
Carter's  room  ;  he  ascended  slowly,  and  looked  cautiously  to 
ascertain  if  the  door  of  the  room  was  closed  as  he  had  left 
it  It  was;  he  signified  that  fact  to  his  companion,  and 
Tighe  paused  to  draw  from  his  pocket  a  sponge  and  a  vial, 
partially  saturating  the  former  with  the  contents  of  the  latter. 
Then  Corny,  with  a  knock  which  he  did  not  wait  to  have 
answered,  entered  Carter's  room.  The  occupant  was  still 


A  BOLD    VENTURE. 


383 


seated,  his  arras  folded,  and  his  head  inclined.  There  was  a 
sudden  springing  forward  of  some  one  in  Corny's  rear,  and 
before  Carter  could  recover  his  startled  senses,  he  was  pin- 
ioned  in  his  chair,  and  the  sponge  held  to  his  nose.  A  stupor 
seized  him — he  fell  back  like  a  log,  almost  overturning  his 
chair  ;  and  Tighe,  drawing  a  rope  from  his  pocket,  proceeded 
to  bind  him. 

"  Quick  !  "  he  said  to  Corny,  "  sarch  his  pockets — the 
stupor  mayn't  last  long." 

Corny  obeyed,  turning  out  pocket  after  pocket  of  Carter's 
capacious  garments,  and  nervously  reading  in  a  loud  whisper 
the  contents  of  every  paper  he  found  ;  but  the  latter  com- 
prised only  business  memoranda — no  document  contained 
anything  like  the  words  which  he  had  heard  Carroll  repeat. 

"  We're  too  late,"  said  Tighe,  in  a  tone  of  bitter  despond- 
ency ;  "  he's  given  it  to  some  o*  the  authorities,  onless  it  could 
be  hid  somewhere  in  the  room."  He  glanced  doubtingly 
about  him. 

"  Wait  awhile,"  said  Corny ;  "  we  haven't  done  searching 
him  yet ;  sometimes  a  man  has  secret  pockets  in  his  breast," 
and  with  trembling  haste  he  tore  open  Carter's  vest.  There, 
in  an  inner  pocket,  he  found  a  folded  paper. 

Carter  gave  signs  of  returning  consciousness,  but  Tighe's 
sponge  was  instantly  to  his  nostrils,  and  the  heavy  form 
relapsed  into  stupor.  Corny  read  : 

"  The  undersigned  swears  that  his  fealty  to  Ireland's  cause  is  un- 
changed, that  his  loyalty  as  a  sworn  member  of  the  Irish  Republic 
Organization  is  undiminished,  and  that,  declaring  himself  an  op«a 
enemy  to  the  English  Government,  he  i«  ready  to  die  in  th« 
defense  of  his  country. 

CAKSOLL  O'DoxoanuB." 

"That  will  do  ! "  and  Tighe  seized  the  paper,  concealed  it 
upon  his  person,  and  unbinding  Carter,  extinguished  the  light 
Then  both  men  stole  softly  down  the  stair  and  from  the 
house,  and  both  were  exulting  over  their  success  in  Corny 
O'Toole's  little  apartment  by  the  time  that  Carter  recovered 


j34  CARROLL  VDONOQHU1L 

from  the  effect  of  the  narcotic  which  had  been  administered 
to  him.  His  restoration  was  slow,  and  the  darkness  in  which 
he  found  himself  seemed  to  convince  him  for  a  while  that  he 
had  fallen  asleep  in  his  chair,  and  dreamed  the  whole  of  the 
incidents  which  he  was  beginning  to  remember  in  an  indis- 
tinct and  confused  manner.  By  degrees  all  came  fully  to 
him— his  strange  visitor,  the  return  of  the  latter  with  a 
companion,  the  sudden  bounding  of  some  one  to  him,  the 
vise-like  grip  in  which  he  was  held — and  that  was  all.  He 
recalled  the  face  of  his  visitor  perfectly — but  of  the  face  of 
the  latter's  companion  he  could  remember  nothing,  save  that 
it  was  a  colored  face.  He  roused  himself  and  called  for  help  ; 
in  a  brief  time  the  whole  household  was  about  him,  frightened 
men  and  women  half  dressed,  and  with  their  lamps  high  above 
their  heads,  peering  from  safe  distances  into  Carter's  room,  as 
if  they  expected  to  meet  a  whole  army  of  desperate  thieves. 

"I  have  been  robbed,"  shrieked  Carter — "bound  down  in 
my  chair  and  robbed — an  outrage  has  been  perpetrated  upon 
me  !  "  But  the  condition  of  the  room  did  not  corroborate 
his  story  ;  not  an  article  had  been  disturbed. 

"  Of  what  have  you  been  robbed  ?  "  gasped  one  terror- 
stricken  voice.  It  was  not  his  money,  for  his  porte-monnaie 
was  safely  in  its  accustomed  place  ;  nor  his  watch,  for  that 
was  in  his  fob  pocket ;  yet  his  disarranged  garments  gave 
evidence  of  some  unusual  proceeding.  He  discovered  his  loss 
at  last,  and  with  a  yell,  as  he  fruitlessly  searched  foi  the  paper 
which  he  had  received  from  Carroll,  he  bounded  to  the  middle 
of  the  floor.  "  It  is  gone  !  "  he  screamed,  "  gone  !  " 

"  What  is  gone  ? "  asked  two  or  three  of  the  mystified  crowd. 

"A  paper — an  important  paper  !  "  he  gasped  ;  and  then  he 
threw  himself  into  a  chair,  burying  his  face  in  his  hands,  and 
groaning,  while  the  puzzled  lodgers,  their  tongues  at  last 
becoming  loosed,  burst  into  their  own  wild  conjectures  as  to 
what  had  really  happened,  and  they  offered  equally  wild 
suggestions  as  to  what  had  better  be  done.  Some  were  for 
running  for  the  police,  others  for  making  a  general  alarm  in 


A  BOLD    VENTURE.  385 

the  neighborhood,  and  otherj,  shaking  their  heads,  said  it  wa« 
too  late  to  attempt  a  discovery  of  the  thieves. 

Carter  had  a  horrible  suspicion  of  the  truth — he  felt  that 
Tighe  a  Vohr  was  the  perpetrator  of  the  theft ;  but  what  could 
he  do  in  the  matter  now  ?  he  knew  that  no  efforts  of  his  could 
recover  the  paper,  and  did  he  bring  a  charge  against  Tighe 
he  had  no  witnesses,  no  proof  to  sustain  it. 

The  lodgers,  finding  that  Carter  seemed  more  disposed  to 
commune  with  his  own  unhappy  thoughts  than  to  listen  to 
their  suggestions,  gradually  returned  to  their  rooms,  and 
Carter  was  left  alone  with  his  landlord. 

"What  will  you  do  about  this  thing,  Mr.  Carter?"  he 
asked. 

"  I'll  do  nothing  about  it  till  the  morning,"  was  the  sullen 
reply  ;  and  the  landlord,  having  relit  Mr.  Carter's  lamp,  with- 
drew, leaving  his  lodger  a.  prey  to  ungovernable  hate  and 
fury. 


CHAPTER  XLVIL 

CRUEL   TREACHERY. 

IT  was  the  third  day  of  the  trial,  and  interest  and  expecta 
lion  were  more  rife  and  eager  because  current  rumor  had  it 
that  on  this  day  it  was  certain  the  prisoner  would  be  sentenced. 

Father  Meagher  and  Clare  were  in  their  accustomed  places, 
as  were  also  Rick  and  Nora ;  and  Tighe  a  Vohr  and  Corny 
O'Toole  were  in  the  center  of  the  throng  that  densely  filled 
the  court-room,  both  eagerly  peering  in  every  direction  foi 
Carter,  but  he  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  In  one  of  the  fore- 
most seats,  yet  sufficiently  in  the  rear  not  to  be  seen  by  Clare 
O'Donoghue,  sat  Dennier.  He  could  only  see  the  back  of 
Clare's  form,  with  an  occasional  glimpse  of  her  clear-cut  pro- 
file, but  there  was  evidently  enough  in  the  view  to  chain  his 
gaze  ;  his  eyes  never  turned  from  her  until  the  prisoner 
entered. 

A  quarter  of  a  century  seemed  to  have  passed  over  the 
latter's  youthful  head,  his  form  was  so  bowed,  and  the  lines  in 
his  face  were  so  deeply  worn  ;  even  physical  strength  appeared 
to  have  deserted  him  for  a  brief  interval  after  he  had  taken 
his  place  in  the  dock,  for  he  tottered  and  caught  the  railing 
of  the  enclosure  for  support. 

The  mass  of  evidence  already  collected  was  increased  by 
new  testimony — the  witnesses  on  both  sides  pressed  and 
worried,  or  re-examined,  and  at  length,  just  when  it  was  sup- 
posed that  the  last  evidence  had  been  taken,  and  people  were 
settling  themselves  back  in  their  seats  to  listen  with  fresh  zest 
to  the  summing  up  by  the  counsel,  it  was  rumored  through 
the  court  that  a  new  witness  on  the  part  of  the  crown  was  to 
be  called.  Ears  were  strained  to  catch  the  name,  and  necks 
(**) 


CRUEL  TREAOHERT.  -g. 

stretched  that  the  earliest  .glimpse  might  be  caught  of  the 
person  of  the  witness.  Another  instant,  and  the  name  rung 
through  the  court,  falling  like  molten  lead  on  more  than  one 
quivering  heart — it  was  Mortimer  Carter. 

As  if  it  were  the  result  of  some  magician's  power,  the  pris- 
oner's bowed  form  straightened  to  its  former  erectness,  his 
face,  so  ghastly  a  moment  previous,  flushed  with  all  the 
crimson  of  his  fiercest  moods,  and  his  eyes,  which  from 
physical  weakness  had  worn  that  morning  so  dull  a  stare, 
now  seemed  to  shine  with  supernatural  brilliancy. 

The  corpulent  form  ascended  to  the  witness-box,  breathing 
BO  heavily  that  it  seemed  to  pant,  and  the  round,  red  face  was 
so  thickly  covered  with  perspiration  that  it  required  a  pro- 
tracted use  of  the  crimson-colored  handkerchief.  He  seemed 
to  avoid  turning  his  eyes  in  the  direction  of  the  prisoner,  and 
when  by  accident  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  that  flushed  and 
startled  countenance,  he  instantly  turned  his  eyes  away.  The 
witness  required  no  pressing  to  tell  his  tale — clear,  decisive, 
in  almost  true  legal  style,  it  fell  from  his  lips — from  the  first 
moment  of  Carroll  O'Donoghue's  connection  with  the  I.  R.  B. 
down  to  the  expression  of  Carroll's  treasonable  sentiments 
which  the  witness  had  obtained  from  the  accused  in  writing 
on  the  previous  day,  but  which  statement  had  been  purloined 
from  him  on  that  same  night  by  unknown  parties — all  was 
sworn  to  without  a  pause,  or  even  a  tremulous  accent. 

Not  a  shadow  of  hope  remained  for  the  horrified  prisoner 
— that  testimony  was  sufficient  to  convict  him  of  the  most 
felonious  treason.  People  held  their  breaths,  and  even  those 
who  had  been  attracted  to  the  trial  from  no  motive  of  sym- 
pathy with  the  poor  accused  felt  their  hearts  tighten  a  little 
as  they  listened  to  the  damning  proofs  of  a  guilt  which  must  in- 
sure the  most  stern  conviction.  Clare  had  thrown  up  her 
veil,  and  with  compressed  lips  and  hard  breathing  she  had 
listened  to  the  testimony,  while  Father  Meagher's  horror  and 
indignation  were  plainly  visible  in  the  expression  of  his 
countenance.  Even  Dennier's  face  expressed  contempt  and 


388  CARROLL  VDONOGHTTR. 

loathing,  while  Tighe  a  Vohr  could  hardly  refrain  from 
bursting  aloud  into  his  own  peculiar  expressions  indicative  of 
his  feelings.  Nora,  removed  from  the  support  of  those  whose 
very  tenderness  would  have  been  a  stay  in  this  terrible  time, 
felt  herself  sicken  when  she  heard  the  name  and  saw  the  per- 
son of  the  last  witness  ;  she  was  obliged  to  catch  Rick's  arm 
to  save  herself  from  falling,  and  she  was  forced  to  retain  her 
clasp  in  order  to  prevent  herself  from  sinking  under  the  icy 
weight  which  seemed  to  press  upon  her.  Carter  stepped  down 
from  the  witness-box,  and  with  brazen  effrontery  took  a  seat 
almost  on  a  line  with  the  prisoner. 

The  jury  retired,  and  within  a  half-hour  returned  with  a 
verdict  of  guilty,  without  the  slightest  recommendation  to 
mercy. 

There  was  no  scream  from  the  sister  of  the  prisoner,  no  un- 
due excitement  on  the  part  of  his  nearest  friends,  as  perhaps 
some  of  those  in  the  court-room  expected — there  was  only  a 
longer  drawing  of  breaths,  and  a  rustling  of  garments  as 
people  changed  their  positions.  On  the  part  of  Clare  there 
was  not  a  motion  :  she  sat  in  the  same  inclined  manner,  her 
lips  still  compressed,  her  breathing  still  hard,  and  her  eyes 
fixed  in  a  wild,  agonizing  stare  on  the  unhappy  prisoner. 
The  latter  stood  erect,  his  gaze  fixed  on  Mortimer  Carter  ;  the 
verdict  had  not  affected  him,  for  he  was  absorbed  in  the 
horror  of  the  traitor's  act.  The  judge  arose,  and  after  the 
usual  form,  asked  the  prisoner  if  he  had  anything  to  say  why 
sentence  of  death  should  not  be  pronounced  upon  him.  Car- 
roll drew  a  long,  heavy  breath,  while  his  nostrils  dilated, 
and  his  keen  glance  withdrew  for  an  instant  from  Mortimer 
Carter,  to  fix  itself  upon  those  whom  he  was  about  to  address  ; 
then,  folding  his  ai  ns,  he  began,  his  voice  sounding  at  first  as 
if  it  had  been  weakened  by  physical  suffering. 

"  My  lord,  and  gentlemen  of  the  jury  :  You  ask  me  if  I 
have  anything  to  say.  In  the  face  of  the  conviction  which 
has  just  been  returned,  of  what  use,  in  your  judgment,  would 
be  anything  I  could  say  ?  And  yet,  do  not  construe  my  re- 


CMUJSL   TBSAUHISMI. 


3** 


marks  into  a  semblance  of  a  wish  to  retract  from  the  senti- 
ments which  have  been  sworn  as  mine — into  any  desire  to  have 
my  sentence  lighter  than  the  court  will  adjudge.  I  am  proud 
to  stand  here  as  the  avowed  friend  of  Ireland,  and  I  am  not 
afraid  to  denounce  that  system  which  makes  as  its  base  of 
operations  in  treason  trials  the  information  of  perjured 
traitors.  To  yonder  man  " — his  voice,  increasing  startlingly 
in  tone,  reached  to  the  extreme  ends  of  the  crowded  space, 
and  his  arm,  outstretched,  pointed  in  scathing  denounce- 
ment of  Morty  Carter, — "  I  owe  my  present  conviction  :  as 
my  sworn  bosom  friend,  he  extorted  my  secrets  under  the 
guise  of  the  tenderest  affection,  and  he  has  revealed  them 
here,  to  exemplify  in  his  own  person  how  fiendish  can  be  the 
heart  of  a  traitor.  But  he  has  only  harmed  my  poor  perish- 
able body — my  soul  he  cannot  touch,  and  that,  my  lord,  and 
gentlemen  of  the  jury,  is  guilty  of  no  crime  to  your  govern- 
ment beyond  love  for  a  country  which  centuries  of  oppres- 
sion has  only  left  more  endeared  to  the  hearts  of  her  inthralled 
sons.  I  have  done  !"  His  hands  fell  to  his  sides,  his  head 
dropped  forward,  and  all  the  marks  of  premature  age  and 
suffering  returned  which  had  been  so  manifest  on  his  en- 
trance to  the  court-room. 

The  sentence  was  passed — it  was  the  extreme  penalty  of 
the  law,  and  the  execution  was  announced  to  take  place  on  a 
date  which  left  little  more  than  the  interval  of  a  month. 

"  Come  home,"  whispered  Nora  to  Rick  ;  "  quick  ;  or  I 
shall  faint  by  the  way  !  " 

He  half  carried  her  out,  being  obliged  to  support  her  totter- 
ing steps,  even  on  the  street 

Father  Meagher  was  obliged  to  shake  Clare  slightly  in 
order  to  rouse  her  ;  she  seemed  to  have  sunk  into  some  hor- 
rible lethargy,  and  Dennier,  observing  the  anxious  effort  of 
the  priest,  could  control  himself  no  longer.  He  forced  his 
way  to  them,  and  begged  to  be  allowed  to  render  some  assist- 
ance. The  clergyman  gave  him  a  grateful  look,  and  Clare, 
awakened  at  last  to  all  the  hoiror  of  the  recent  moments, 
burst  into  wild  sobbing. 


J90  CARROLL  VDONOQHU& 

The  prisoner,  in  the  act  of  being  hurried  to  his  cell,  caught 
the  sound,  and  turned  his  face  for  a  moment  in  the  direction  ; 
the  next  instant  he  had  disappeared  with  his  guard. 

Dennier,  under  the  influence  of  feelings  bitter,  and  yet  in  a 
measure  also  sweet,  from  the  fact  that  he  could  be  of  some 
•crvice  to  her  who  had  grown  to  be  the  constant  object  of  his 
thoughts,  flew  to  give  an  order  for  a  carriage.  He  met  Tighe, 
and  giving  him  the  commission,  returned.  A  number  of  re- 
ipectful  sympathizers  had  gathered  about  the  priest  and  hig 
companion,  and  the  latter,  after  the  first  burst  of  her  wild 
grief,  shrunk  from  the  notice  of  which  she  was  the  interesting 
object  She  pulled  down  her  veil,  stifled  her  sobs,  and 
seizing  Father  Meagher's  hand,  whispered  to  him  to  go  ;  but 
Dennier  begged  them  to  wait  the  arrival  of  the  carriage  which 
he  had  ventured  to  order. 

Tighe  speedily  returned  to  say  that  the  carriage  waited,  and 
the  clergyman  found  an  opportunity  of  speaking  briefly  to  the 
faithful  fellow  about  Nora,  and  of  requesting  him  to  try  to 
discover  her  whereabouts. 

As  the  three  took  their  seats  in  the  vehicle,  Dennier  said  : 
"  Permit  me,  reverend  sir,  to  insist  that  you  shall  partake  of 
my  hospitality  to-day."  And  the  priest  found  it  useless  to 
attempt  to  decline  the  invitation.  They  were  driven  rapidly 
to  the  hotel,  but  Clare  seemed  to  take  no  note  of  what  passed  \ 
every  thought  was  concentrated  upon  that  dreadful  sentence, 
and  she  answered  Father  Meagher's  inquiries  in  a  wild,  vacant 
way  that  alarmed  the  clergyman,  and  caused  an  expression  of 
intense  concern  to  come  into  the  face  of  Dennier.  She 
tasted  nothing  of  the  repast  that  was  ordered,  and  she 
listened  like  one  in  a  dream  while  the  priest  and  his  young 
entertainer  sadly  discussed  Carroll's  unhappy  case. 

The  young  man,  unfettered  now  by  the  trammels  of  a  re- 
pulsive duty,  could  give  unchecked  expression  to  ideas  and 
sentiments  which  stamped  him  as  Irish  in  feeling  as  the  most 
loyal  of  Ireland's  devoted  sons.  The  clergyman  was  more 
than  ever  charmed  with  the  frank,  ardent  young  fellow,  and 


URUEL  TREACHERY.  J9, 

he  found  himself  giving  involuntary  vent  to  his  anxiety  about 
Nora.  He  told  of  the  sacrifice  which  she  had  made  of  her- 
self for  her  wretched  father,  and  the  cheek  of  the  manly  list- 
ener  flushed  with  admiration  of  the  noble  girl 

"  Allow  me,  also,  reverend  sir,"  he  said,  "  to  unite  my  effort* 
with  those  that  may  be  made  by  the  faithful  Tighe  to  find  the 
young  lady." 

Father  Meagher  bowed  his  grateful  acceptance,  saying, 
after  a  brief  pause  :  "  I  am  confident  that  Tighe  will  succeed, 
for  he  knows  every  haunt,  and  he  is  familiar  with  the  person 
and  character  of  this  man  who  is  called  Rick  of  the  Hills.  I 
think  he  can  hardly  fail  in  his  search." 

Clare,  at  the  mention  of  Nora's  name,  aroused  for  a  moment 
from  her  melancholy  lethargy,  but  the  next  instant  she  was  as 
abstracted  as  before  ;  nor  did  she  again  show  any  emotion  until, 
when  ready  for  departure,  Dennier  stood  bidding  her  adieu. 

"  Miss  O'Donoghue,"  he  said,  his  deep  voice  penetrating 
for  the  first  time  that  day  with  something  of  its  olden  power 
through  the  horror  of  her  thoughts,  "  once  you  asked  a  favor 
which  I  could  not  grant  without  violating  my  duty, — now  I 
proffer  to  you,  unasked,  a  similar  boon.  All  my  influence 
with  the  governor  of  the  jail  shall  be  used  in  your  brother's 
behalf  ;  I  think  I  can  promise  that  you  shall  be  admitted  to 
him  to-morrow,  and  after  that  very  frequently ;  no  effort  on 
my  part  shall  be  spared  to  serve  you  and  yours." 

She  was  herself  at  last ;  she  bent  over  the  hand  he  extend- 
ed, and  her  burning  tears,  bringing  relief  to  her  aching 
heart  and  whirling  brain,  gushed  wildly  forth.  Ah  !  for  that 
one  moment,  in  which  he  felt  that  he  was  entirely  forgiven, 
in  which  hope  whispered  that  the  future  might  win  for  him 
a  return  of  his  regard,  young  Dennier  would  have  cheerfully 
taken  his  place  in  the  dock  beside  Carroll  O'Donoghue. 
Having  promised  to  telegraph  the  time  which  the  governor 
might  appoint  for  their  first  visit  to  the  poor  condemned,  the 
final  adieu  was  taken,  and  Father  Meagher  and  Clare  were 
driven  in  the  carriage,  again  provided  by  Dennier's  careful 
forethought  to  take  the  mail-car  for  DhrommacohoL 


CHAPTER  XLVIIL 

SACRIFICE   BEARING   FRUIT. 

HURRIED  steps  had  pursued  Nora  and  Rick  when  they  «o 
hastily  left  the  court-room  that  morning — steps  which  speedily 
overtook  the  pair,  while  at  the  same  time  a  voice  that  was 
full  of  wonder  and  pain  cried  :  "  Nora  !  " 

Both  turned  to  behold  Father  O'Connor.  The  sight  of 
him,  connected  as  he  was  with  all  that  was  dearest  to  her, 
and  dear  himself,  because  of  his  own  inestimable  qualities 
and  companionship  when  they  were  children  together,  opened 
the  flood-gates  of  her  already  overcharged  emotions — she 
wept  with  all  the  abandon  of  a  broken  heart.  Passers-by 
were  attracted,  and  most  of  them  stood  to  watch  the  strange 
scene,  made  up  of  a  weeping  lady,  a  young  priest,  and  be- 
side them  a  queer,  ill-dressed,  awkward-looking  man. 

"  Come  home  with  us,"  gasped  Nora,  seizing  the  clergy- 
man's arm  ;  "  we  cannot  speak  here  !  " 

He  obeyed,  walking  beside  her,  while  Rick,  considerably 
abashed,  walked  behind  them.  The  residents  of  the  squalid 
quarter  who  chanced  to  be  about  gazed  with  reverential 
wonder  at  the  young  priest,  as  he  accompanied  the  painfully- 
contrasted  pair  to  their  humble  abode. 

"  Do  you  know — have  you  heard  ?  "  said  Nora,  looking 
in  a  wild  way  from  one  to  the  other  of  her  companions, 
when  the  three  were  within  the  little  sitting-room,  and  the 
door  securely  shut  on  all  prying  eyes. 

Father  O'Connor  seemed  to  understand  her.     "  Yes  ;  "  he 

answered  ;  "  1  know  what  you  mean.      Father  Meagher  wrote 

to  me  the  strange  history  of  Rick  here  being  your  father,  and 

how  you  had  renounced   us  all.      My  duties  prevented  m« 

(39») 


SACRIFICE  BEARING  FRUIT. 

from  going  to  Dhrommacohol,  and  they  have  been  so  pressing 
as  to  keep  me  from  Carroll's  trial  until  to-day.  I  only  arrived 
in  time  to  hear  the  verdict  and  the  sentence." 

"  The  sentence  !  "  the  crushing  weight  of  all  that  was  con- 
tained  in  those  two  dreadful  words  fell  on  the  agonized  heart 
of  the  wretched  girl.  Her  brain  whirled,  and  feeling  that 
consciousness  was  about  to  forsake  her,  she  stepped  forward 
to  save  herself  from  falling  ;  but  it  was  a  useless  precaution, 
and,  before  either  of  her  companions  could  interpose  a  hand 
to  prevent,  she  had  dropped  insensible  at  their  feet. 

Scalding  tears  fell  from  Rick's  eyes  on  the  white,  upturned 
face  as  he  raised  her,  and  with  Father  O'Connor's  assistance, 
placed  her  upon  a  lounge. 

"  Has  she  no  female  friend  whom  you  can  summon  ? "  asked 
the  priest. 

Rick  thought  of  good-natured  Mrs.  Murphy,  and  mentioned 
her. 

"  Summon  her,"  said  the  priest ;  "  I  shall  watch  until  you 
return,"  and  he  began  to  apply  such  simple  restoratives  as 
were  at  hand.  She  recovered  before  Rick's  return,  and  the 
sight  of  the  young  clergyman's  pale  face  with  its  deep,  soft 
brown  eyes  bent  so  pityingly  upon  her,  brought  back  all  the 
agony  of  the  past  few  hours. 

"  Oh,  father  !  "  she  said,  striving  to  sit  up,  but  failing  in  the 
effort  from  very  weakness,  and  clasping  her  hands  tightly  over 
her  eyes,  as  if  to  shut  out  some  dreadful  scene. 

"  My  poor,  poor  child  !  " 

It  was  all  in  the  way  of  earthly  comfort  that  he,  though 
deeply  affected,  could  say — her  worldly  future  appeared  so 
bleak  and  desolate.  He  resumed,  after  the  silence  of  a  mo- 
ment: 

"  Father  Meagher  and  Clare — why  were  they  not  with  you 
in  the  court-room  ;  or  had  you  parted  from  them  before  I  saw 
you  ? " 

It  was  evident  that  he  did  not  know  how  Nora  had  con- 
cealed herself  from  her  friends.  The  good  pastor  of  Dhrom- 


9AA  CARROLL  VDONOQHUK 

jy* 

macohol  had  not  had  time  to  communicate  that  fact  in  addi« 
tion  to  the  other  news,  and  the  young  priest  did  not  dream 
that  Nora  had  not  alone  withdrawn  from  the  protection  of 
Father  Meagher,  but  that  she  had  also  renounced  all  com- 
munication with  the  friends  of  her  childhood.  Now,  how- 
ever, he  speedily  won  all  the  facts  from  her,  and  he  stood  a 
little  appalled  at  the  extent  of  the  sacrifice  she  had  deemed  it 
her  duty  to  make.  He  attempted  to  combat  her  resolution, 
pleading  the  affection  of  Clare,  and  her  plighted  troth  to  Car- 
roll 

"  No,  father,"  she  said,  striving  to  speak  calmly  ;  "  Carroll 
will  need  these  last  days  for  his  God — it  is  better  that  I  should 
be  forgotten.  I  could  not,  being  the  child  of  such  a  man,  go 
among  them  now — and  then  our  poverty  would  rend  their 
hearts  ;  they  would  think  that  I  was  suffering  greater  priva- 
tions than  I  am,  and  they  would  take  from  themselves  to  give 
to  me.  No  ;  I  have  thought,  and  wept,  and  prayed  over  it 
all,  and  I  feel  that  this  sacrifice  which  I  am  making,  bitter 
though  it  is,  is  best  Promise  me,  father,  that  you  will  not 
let  them  know  you  have  seen  me — should  you  " — as  she  saw 
the  priest  hesitate — "  we  shall  fly,  my  father  and  I,  to  a  surer 
retreat" 

He  tried  to  evade  her  by  answering  :  "  I  shall  not  see  them 
for  a  week  or  more,  owing  to  duties  which  require  my  imme- 
diate return,  and  which  will  detain  me  at  home  for  that 
period.  Then  I  shall  return  here,  in  order  to  make  an  effort 
to  see  CarrolL" 

She  perceived  his  subterfuge,  and  was  quick  to  plead  : 
"  Promise  me  that  you  will  not  write  to  them  of  my  where- 
abouts.** 

He  deemed  it  better,  because  of  her  weakened  condition,  to 
gratify  her.  "  Since  you  desire  it  so  earnestly,  I  shall  not 
write." 

But  he  did  not  promise  to  be  silent  about  her  when  he 
should  visit  Dhrommacohol,  which  he  was  now  determined  to 
do  on  the  earliest  opportunity,  and  she  seemed  to  overlook 


SACRIFICE  BEARING  FRUIT.  39J 

that  probability  in  her  eagerness  to  win  from  him  the  promise 
not  to  write. 

Rick  returned  with  good-natured  Mrs.  Murphy.  Her 
motherly  skill  immediately  devised  means  of  comfort  for  Nora 
which  were  grateful  and  refreshing  to  the  still  weak  girl  She 
reclined  on  the  well-worn  lounge,  and  looked  at  the  kind- 
hearted  matron  bustling  about  in  services  for  Rick,  as  well  as 
for  the  invalid  she  had  come  to  tend,  with,  as  Mrs.  Murphy 
expressed  it,  "  the  smile  of  an  angel."  Father  O'Connor  was 
obliged  to  depart,  and  having  taken  adieu  of  Nora,  he  turned 
to  Rick. 

"  Good-by,"  he  said,  holding  the  coarse  palm  of  the  latter 
warmly  in  his  clasp,  "  good-by,  Rick,  and  may  Almighty  God 
reward  Nora's  devotion  by  making  you  what  you  yourself 
would  be  in  the  sight  of  Heaven." 

Rick  started — had  the  eyes  bent  so  earnestly  upon  him  the 
power  of  reading  his  soul  ?  did  the  priestly  attributes  of  the 
speaker  enable  him  to  penetrate  the  secrets  of  his  wretched 
heart  ?  It  would  almost  seem  so  from  the  deep  import  of  the 
words  ;  and  under  the  influence  of  such  feelings,  Rick  could 
not  answer — he  wrung  the  clergyman's  hand  hard  and  turned 
away. 

Mrs.  Murphy  was  also  obliged  to  leave  to  attend  to  her  own 
household,  but  she  promised  to  return  in  the  morning,  and 
the  painfully  contrasted  pair  were  left  alone  together. 

"  Nora,"  said  Rick,  when  a  long  interval  had  passed  in 
gloomy  silence,  "  would  you  be  content  to  remain  with  Mrs. 
Murphy  for  a  few  days  while  I  go  away  on  a  little  business  ?  " 

She  endeavored  to  assume  a  sitting  posture,  but  weakness 
made  her  sink  again  on  her  pillow.  "  Perhaps  you  want  to 
leave  me,"  she  said,  faintly,  "  perhaps  you  are  troubled  at  my 
condition,  and  would  take  this  means  of  restoring  me  to 
Father  Meagher ;  but  do  not,  I  beg  of  you — do  not  now  de- 
prive me  of  what  I  have  prayed  and  hoped  for  so  long ! " 

"  And  what  is  that  ? "  he  asked. 

"  To  see  you  once  more  before  God's  altar,  a  true  penitent " 


i9$  CARROLL  VDONOGHUB. 

—her  cheeks  flushed  with  the  ardor  of  her  feelings, — MU 
know  that  you  knelt  again  in  that  tribunal  where  God  him- 
self would  give  you  pardon  and  peace  !  " 

He  rose  from  his  chair  and  approached  her.  "  Nora,"  he 
said,  standing  where  she  could  not  see  his  face,  "  this  in- 
tended journey  of  mine  will  be  for  the  purpose  of  making  a 
restitution — and  il  I  would,  I  could  not  take  you  with  me, 
because  of  your  feeble  state.  It  is  due  to  your  influence  that 
I  have  at  last  made  up  my  mind  to  perform  this  act  of  justice  ; 
perhaps,  if  I  delay,  my  weak  soul  may  fly  from  the  task." 

"  Then  go,  father  ;  I  shall  not  bid  you  stay — but  where  and 
when  is  this  journey  to  take  place  ?  " 

"  To-morrow,  when  I  have  seen  Mrs.  Murphy,  and  made 
arrangements  with  her  concerning  you  ;  I  have  little  doubt 
that  she  will  give  you  a  home  with  her  until  I  return  ;  but 
where  my  journey  is  to  be  I  cannot  tell  you — it  is  one  of  my 
guilty  secrets." 

She  said  no  more. 

Mrs.  Murphy  came  in  the  morning  and  gladly  consented  to 
Rick's  proposition  ;  later  in  the  day,  when  Nora's  strength 
was  sufficiently  regained  to  enable  her  to  walk,  leaning  on  the 
good-natured  woman's  arm,  the  three  set  out  for  Mrs.  Mur- 
phy's abode,  and  there,  having  reluctantly  allowed  himself  to 
be  persuaded  to  remain  for  one  of  the  good  woman's  sub- 
stantial meals,  Rick  bade  Nora  adieu  and  left  her. 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

MACI   TO   A   STORM-TOSSED   SOUL. 

FATHER  O'CONNOR,  after  his  hurried  visit  to  Tralee, 
arrived  at  home,  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  his  old  house* 
keeper,  and  to  the  extravagant  delight  of  stuttering  Jerry. 
There  was  also  another  in  the  little  household  to  welcome 
him — a  beautiful  boy  of  some  twelve  summers  ;  but  his  beauty 
bore  the  traces  of  recent  illness,  and  his  dark  eyes  had  the 
brilliancy  which  gives  evidence  of  early  decay.  He  had  been 
sitting  on  the  lowest  step  of  the  little  porch,  so  that  he  might 
be  ready  to  spring  forward  at  the  first  glimpse  of  the  return- 
ing clergyman,  and  with  many  an  anxious  question  to  both 
the  old  housekeeper  and  Jerry  he  had  long  maintained  his 
watch.  He  had  been  rewarded  at  last ;  the  tall,  clerical  form 
appeared,  turning  into  the  boreen,  and  the  anxious  boy,  for- 
getting that  his  limbs  were  still  enfeebled  by  recent  illness, 
bounded  forward,  his  cheeks  flushed,  his  eyes  sparkling,  and 
every  feature  of  his  exquisitely  beautiful  face  expressing 
gratitude  and  affection. 

"  Bartley,  my  boy,  how  are  you  ?  "  asked  the  priest,  grasp- 
ing with  the  tenderness  of  a  father  the  lad's  outstretched 
hands. 

"  So  much  better,  your  reverence,  that  I  think  I'll  be  strong 
enough  for  my  journey  to-morrow." 

Father  O'Connor  shook  his  head.  "  No,  Bartley ;  you 
must  not  think  of  that  yet — these  cheeks  must  grow  more 
plump," — and  he  playfully  patted  the  boy's  face. 

"  F'm  pining  for  Cathleen  ! "  The  flush  suddenly  faded 
from  the  fair  countenance,  and  the  dark  eyes  glistened  with 
tears. 

(397) 


39* 


CARROLL  VDONOGHUK 


"  But  Cathleen  knows  why  you  remain  from  her,"  answered 
the  priest ;  "  have  I  not  twice  written  to  her  about  you — how 
you  were  hurt  in  Tralee  by  the  overturning  of  a  vehicle,  how 
strangers  kindly  cared  for  you,  and  how  you  persevered  in 
journeying  to  me  only  to  become  ill  as  soon  as  you  found  me  ? 
She  knows  these  particulars,  and  she  knows,  also,  that  I  will 
send  you  back  to  her  as  soon  as  you  have  sufficiently  recov- 
ered— are  you  tired  of  me,  Bartley,  that  you  want  to  leave  me 
so  soon  ?  " 

"  Tired  of  you,  your  reverence ! "  the  boy's  two  hands 
closed  with  an  affectionate  pressure  upon  the  priest's  hand,  and 
his  eyes  met  those  of  the  clergyman  with  an  eloquent  ex- 
pression of  gratitude,  while  he  continued  :  "  I  place  you  in 
my  heart  with  Cathleen." 

No  more  was  said,  and  the  boy  walked  confidingly  by  the 
side  of  his  benefactor  to  the  little  dwelling,  where  the  self- 
iacrificing  priest  found  that,  comparatively  short  as  had  been 
his  absence,  there  had  been  numerous  calls  for  him.  So  per- 
fect, however,  was  his  discipline  of  himself  that,  though  tor- 
tured by  distressing  thoughts  of  the  doomed  Carroll  and  the 
unhappy  Nora  and  Clare,  each  the  fond  playmate  of  his 
youth,  no  trace  of  his  inward  agitation  was  suffered  to  ap- 
pear— his  exterior  had  all  that  calmness  which  is  ever  the 
sign  of  a  truly  mortified  will. 

The  next  day  was  the  vigil  of  the  Assumption,  and  in  the 
afternoon  many  waited  in  the  little  chapel  to  be  admitted  to 
shrift.  Hour  after  hour  the  poor,  patient  priest  sat,  hearing 
the  doleful  story  of  sin  and  voluntary  imperfection,  and  re- 
proving, admonishing,  exhorting  and  counseling.  He  never 
teemed  to  weary  ;  even  when  the  tale  was  but  the  outpouring 
of  a  morbid  self-love  craving  for  the  sympathy  which  should 
minister  to  its  vanity. 

The  last  penitent  had  disappeared  within  the  confessional, 
and  the  whispered  sound  of  voices  from  the  curtained  recesi 
could  be  heard  throughout  the  little  chapel,  when  an  ill- 
man  with  shambling  gait  entered,  and  knelt  for  an  in- 


PEAOB  TO  A  STORM-TOSSED  SOUL.  399 

•tant  near  the  door.  Then  rising,  he  looked  about  him  with 
a  wild  stare.  There  was  no  one  within  sight,  and  guided  by 
that  sound  of  whispering  voices,  he  walked  slowly  to  the  con- 
fessional Kneeling  almost  in  front  of  the  sacred  tribunal,  he 
bowed  his  head  and  beat  his  breast,  while  burning  tears  gushed 
from  his  eyes.  The  penitent  came  forth,  and  Father  O'Con- 
nor,  observing  the  kneeling  form,  waited.  It  rose,  walked  a 
few  steps  forward,  then,  as  if  deterred  by  some  sudden  fear, 
paused,  and  knelt  again  to  bow  its  head  and  beat  its  breast 
Still  the  priest  waited. 

At  length,  with  a  motion  so  sudden  and  hurried  that  he 
seemed  to  be  impelled  by  an  unseen  power,  Rick  of  the  Hills 
arose  and  darted  within  the  penitent's  side  of  the  confessional. 

What  was  there  in  the  tale  he  so  gaspingly  told  to  make  the 
priest  start  and  tremble — to  make  him  lift  the  curtain  which 
screened  him  from  view,  and  lean  forward  as  if  he  was  stifling 
for  air  ? 

"  You  do  not  speak,  father,"  gasped  the  penitent,  when  the 
last  of  that  thrilling  confession  was  told — "  is  there  no  pardon 
for  me  ? " 

The  priest  turned  to  him,  his  breath  scarcely  more  regular 
than  the  quick  and  fevered  breathings  of  the  wretched  man 
beside  him  :  "  Are  you  willing  to  make  all  the  atonement 
that  is  in  your  power — will  you  reveal  those  secrets  to  the 
world,  so  that  justice  may  be  done  ?  " 

"  I  will,  father :  I  will  make  a  public  confession  of  all ;  I 
ask  for  no  earthly  mercy  for  myself — I  seek  nothing  but  the 
pardon  of  my  offended  God."  His  sobs  burst  forth. 

"  Then  make  your  act  of  contrition  ;  speak  the  words  from 
your  heart,  and  God,  whom  you  have  so  outraged,  will  Him- 
self give  the  absolution  my  unworthy  lips  shall  utter." 

He  raised  his  hand  and  pronounced  the  words  by  which 
the  fetters  of  that  miserable  soul  were  unloosed,  and  Rick 
rose  up  a  freer  and  happier  man  than  he  had  been  for  twenty- 
•even  years.  A  strange  peace  had  descended  into  his  soul, 
and  he  tottered  to  the  altar,  there  to  make,  by  his  "lappy  teart 


A00  CARROLL  &DONOQHUB. 

w* 

and  broken  contrite  prayers,  such  a  thanksgiving  as  would 
have  made  Nora,  could  she  have  witnessed  it,  feel  amply  paid 
for  all  her  self-immolation. 

The  priest  also  left  the  confessional.  His  face  was  deathly 
pale,  and  his  inward  agitation  was  somewhat  visible  in  the 
unsteadiness  of  his  step.  He  too  sought  the  altar,  first  paus- 
ing to  whisper  to  Pack  :  "  Come  into  the  house  when  you 
have  finished — I  ha\e  something  to  aay  to  you." 

The  kneeling  man  nodded  an  assent,  and  the  clergyman 
passed  on  to  the  sanctuary.  He  heard  Rick  leave  the  chapel, 
and  then  he  prostrated  himself  before  the  altar.  "  My  God  ! 
my  God  !  "  he  murmured,  "  why  hast  Thou  reserved  this  rev- 
elation until  now  ?  but  Thy  will  be  done,  and  parden  those 
who  have  been  the  cause  of  so  much  suffering." 

Long  he  knelt  there,  praying,  and  struggling  with  the  horde 
of  unhappy  feelings  called  up  by  that  mysterious  confession. 
But  at  length  he  regained  his  wonted  calm,  and  with  a 
steadier  gait  than  that  with  which  he  had  walked  to  the  altar, 
he  left  the  chapel  to  return  to  the  house. 

Rick  was  waiting  in  the  little  parlor ;  if  he  had  feared  to 
meet  the  priest  because  of  his  recent  wretched  tale,  the  first 
glance  of  the  clergyman's  soft,  pitying  eyes,  the  first  touch  of 
the  friendly  hand  so  cordially  extended  to  him,  at  once 
restored  his  confidence. 

"Father,"  he  said,  looking  steadily  into  the  face  of  the 
priest,  though  his  voice  trembled,  "  will  you  take  the  respon- 
sibility of  the  matter  which  I  have  confided  to  you  ?  will  you 
let  me  tell  you  everything  fully,  here,  and  will  you  give  it  forth 
to  the  world  ?  it  will  come  with  better  favor  from  you  than 
from  me." 

Father  O'Connor  did  not  reply  for  a  moment ;  his  eyes 
sought  the  floor,  and  his  lips  moved  as  if  in  prayer  ;  at  last  he 
looked  up.  "  Yes,  Rick,  since  you  so  desire ;  and  now  tell 
the  story  as  clearly  as  you  can." 

He  tightly  closed  the  little  parlor  door,  took  from  the 
pocket  of  his  sontane  a  small  tablet  and  pencil,  and  as  Rick 


PEACE  TO  A  STORM-TOSSED  80VL.  4O1 

proceeded  with  his  tale,  marked  down  sufficient  vo  enable  him 
to  repeat  the  account.  On  its  conclusion  Rick  sat  with 
flushed  face  and  folded  arms. 

The  priest  arose  :  "  Rick,"  he  said,  and  his  voice  had  a 
startling  clearness,  "thank  God  from  your  heart  for  this 
night's  work  !  He  has  already  pardoned  you,  and  He  would 
even  now  give  you  an  earthly  reward  for  your  act  of  justice, 
late  though  you  have  performed  that  act  Cathleen — your 
Cathleen — is  within  your  reach  !  " 

"  Great  God  !  what  do  you  mean  ? "  The  poor  startled 
creature  was  up  from  his  seat,  his  wild  eyes  turned  appeal- 
ingly  on  the  clergyman's  face,  and  he  was  gasping  for  breath. 

The  priest  said  softly  :  "  You  shall  know  in  a  moment ;  " 
and  then  he  left  the  room,  returning  shortly,  and  leading  by  the 
hand  the  beautiful  boy  whom  he  had  called  Bartley.  "  Tell," 
he  said  to  the  wondering  lad,  "all  that  you  know  about 
Cathleen  Kelly, — this  person  here  thinks  he  too  knows  her, 
and  he  would  like  to  hear  you  speak  of  her." 

An  exquisite  smile  broke  over  the  boy's  face ;  he  needed 
no  pressing  to  accede  to  the  request,  for  instantly  and  artlessly 
he  poured  forth  all  that  his  own  ardent  affection  for  Cathleen 
prompted — her  sisterly  kindness  to  himself — to  her  was  owing 
his  own  unusual  intelligence, — her  charity  to  others,  her  con- 
stant gentleness  ;  all  was  told  with  a  candor  and  earnestness 
which  must  have  carried  conviction  to  the  most  unbelieving 
mind.  Rick  could  not  restrain  his  emotion  ;  he  held  his 
clasped  hands  before  his  face,  but  the  tears  trickled  through 
his  fingers. 

"Perhaps,  after  all,"  he  said  brokenly,  "it  is  not  she— 
not  my  Cathleen." 

"  It  is,  Rick,"— the  priest's  hand  was  upon  Rick's  shoulder 
— "  I  have  other  reasons  than  Bartley's  story  for  knowing  that 
the  Cathleen  he  speaks  of  is  your  Cathleen  ;  and  you  shall  b« 
speedily  convinced,  for  in  company  with  this  lad  you  shall  go 
to  her, — now  that  he  will  have  some  one  with  him,  I  think  per- 
haps he  will  be  strong  enough  to  make  the  journey." 


^t  CARROLL  VDONOQHVX. 

"  I  will,  father  ;  indeed  I  will ! "  said  the  boy  joyfully. 

"  But  even  though  I  should  recognize  her,"  resumed  Rick, 
mournfully,  "  she  will  not  know  me,  and  she  may  refuse  te 
acknowledge  me." 

"  I  think  not,"  answered  the  priest ;  "  Providence,  who  has 
dealt  so  mercifully  with  you,  will  not  now  imbitter  your  cup 
of  happiness  just  as  it  is  at  your  lips.  Besides,  you  will  carry 
to  her  a  letter  from  me,  and  you  can  get  the  record  of  her 
baptism." 

Wild  hope  once  more  flooded  the  heart  of  the  excited  man  ; 
in  his  joy  he  dropped  on  his  knees  at  the  feet  of  Father 
O'Connor.  "  Father,  ha.vtyou  forgiven  me  ?  " 

For  an  instant  the  priest's  eyes  were  turned  upward  ;  then 
they  fell  with  their  wonted  kindly  look  on  the  kneeling  sup- 
pliant, as  he  answered  :  "  When  God  forgives,  of  what  have 
I,  the  creature,  to  complain  ?  " 

Rick  bent  over  the  hand  he  grasped,  and  bedewed  it  with 
his  tears.  "  Nora,"  he  said,  when  his  emotion  calmed  suffi- 
ciently to  let  him  speak, — "  how  shall  I  quiet  her  anxiety  ?  " 

"  I  shall  attend  to  that,"  answered  Father  O'Connor  ;  "  give 
yourself  no  concern,  Rick,  save  to  thank  God  for  His  wonder- 
ful goodness  to  you.  To-morrow  I  think  you  and  Bartley  can 
begin  the  journey." 

For  the  first  time  in  twenty-seven  years,  Rick  knelt  that 
night  before  he  went  to  sleep,  and  the  next  morning,  for  the 
first  time  in  twenty-seven  years,  he  attended  the  holy  sacrifice 
of  the  mass.  Three  hours  after,  having  been  provided  with  a 
bountiful  breakfast,  and  comfortably  equipped  by  the  thought- 
ful kindness  of  Father  O'Connor,  he,  accompanied  by  the  de- 
lighted Bartley,  began  his  journey  to  Cathleen, 


CHAPTER  L. 

A    HAPPY   MEETING. 

UNHAPPY  Nora !  it  required  all  her  heroism  to  endura 
without  repining  the  hard  lot  she  had  imposed  upon  herself. 
Never  to  see  Carroll  again — to  have  him  die  without  hear- 
ing from  him  one  last  word,  without  catching  one  farewell 
look  !  her  heart  swelled,  and  its  icy  weight  grew  heavier. 
She  sought  to  busy  herself  with  her  own  light  labor,  in  the 
hope  of  winning  at  least  temporary  forgetfulness  of  her  sor- 
rows ;  but  the  needle  fell  unheeded  from  her  hand,  and  she 
dropped  unconsciously  into  the  most  melancholy  reveries. 
Sympathetic  Mrs.  Murphy  endeavored  in  her  kindly  way  to 
cheer  the  unhappy  young  creature,  whose  mysterious  grief — 
for  she  knew  nothing  of  Nora's  antecedents — won  her  deepest 
pity;  but  she  soon  learned  to  feel  that  the  greatest  kind- 
ness she  could  show  the  young  lady  would  be  to  leave  her 
to  her  own  reflections.  So  Nora  divided  the  day  between 
visits  to  a  neighboring  chapel,  fruitless  attempts  to  work, 
and  in  the  evenings,  choosing  that  time  because  she  thought 
the  would  be  less  remarked,  a  stealthy  walk  to  the  jail.  On 
one  of  these  occasions  she  was  seen  by  Tighe  a  Vohr,  who 
had  spared  neither  time  nor  labor  in  the  search  he  had  been 
requested  to  make  ;  thus  far  he  had  been  unsuccessful,  owing 
to  his  efforts  having  been  made  in  places  not  so  respectable 
as  Mrs.  Murphy's  abode.  His  first  impulse,  when  he  was 
sure  of  the  identity  of  the  veiled  girl,  was  to  rush  to  her  and 
give  vent  to  his  delight  by  an  extravagant  greeting  ;  but  some- 
thing prompted  him  to  restrain  himself,  and  he  caught  Shaun, 
lest  the  dog,  having  no  reason  for  restraint  in  his  case,  might 
be  less  discreet.  At  a  safe  distance,  and  with  a  command 
(403) 


404  CARROLL  (TDONOGirUB. 

which  kept  Shaun  quietly  by  his  side,  he  followed  Nor*; 
he  noted  the  house  which  she  entered,  and  then  he  hasten- 
ed  to  the  "  Blennerhasset  Arms  "  to  report  to  Captain  Den- 
nier,  between  whom  and  himself  a  series  of  communicationt 
existed  regarding  the  efforts  which  both  had  been  quietly 
making  for  the  discovery  of  the  missing  girl. 

Nora,  unsuspecting,  and  absorbed  in  her  unhappy  thought^ 
little  dreamed  of  the  surprise  which  was  on  the  next  day  to 
greet  her.  She  had  just  returned  from  her  stealthy  walk  to 
the  jail,  and  was  vainly  endeavoring  to  busy  herself  with  her 
work,  when  the  knocker  affixed  to  Mrs.  Murphy's  hall  door 
loudly  sounded.  It  put  the  good  lady  herself  in  somewhat 
of  a  flutter,  but  it  did  not  affect  Nora — she  was  so  sure  that  it 
bore  no  reference  to  her.  There  was  the  bustle  of  more  than 
one  person  entering,  the  sound  of  more  than  one  pair  of  feet 
upon  the  stair,  and  before  she  could  even  rise  from  her  seati 
Clare  O'Donoghue,  conducted  by  delighted  Mrs.  Murphy,  who 
recognized  her  visitors  as  those  who  had  twice  before  called 
to  learn  of  Nora's  whereabouts,  had  rushed  across  the  room, 
and  was  wildly  embracing  her. 

"  Nora,  darling,  at  last !  how  could  you  be  so  cruel  ?  but 
we  have  found  you  now,  and  we  shall  never,  never  let  you  go 
again  ! " 

Her  happy  tears  would  let  her  say  no  more  ;  and  even 
Father  Meagher,  who  had  followed  Clare,  and  was  now  stand- 
ing with  outstretched  hands  waiting  his  turn  to  welcome  and 
be  welcomed,  showed  traces  of  emotion.  Mrs.  Murphy  was 
weeping  copious  tears  of  sympathy. 

For  Nora, — her  tired,  sick  heart  could  no  longer  resist  an 
affection  which  was  so  delightful ;  she  yielded  herself  at  last 
to  all  its  refreshing  tenderness,  and  she  sobbed  in  Clare's  arms. 

Mutual  explanations  at  length  followed,  and  while  the  vis- 
itors discovered  the  depth  of  that  sacrifice  which  would  have 
completed  itself  at  the  risk  of  an  utterly  broken  heart,  Nora 
had  to  learn  that  her  discovery  was  due  to  the  faithful  Tighc 
a  Vohr,  and  not,  as  she  had  supposed,  to  Father  O'Connor.  She 


A  EAPPT  MEETING.  4o5 

had  also  to  learn  of  Captain  Dennier's  noble  kindness,  and 
more  than  all,  to  hear  that  she  was  to  accompany  the  party 
that  evening  to  see  Carroll.  That  information  was  sufficient 
to  send  the  blood  in  a  mad  glow  to  her  face,  and  to  cause  her 
to  tremble  so  that  Clare,  beside  whom  she  sat,  felt  the  tremor  ; 
she  threw  her  arms  more  warmly  about  Nora,  and  whispered  : 

"  You  are  Carroll's  affianced,  remember  ;  nothing  can  undo 
that  bond — nothing  ! " 

The  words  with  which  Nora  would  have  repeated  her  reso- 
lution not  to  disturb  Carroll's  last  days  died  upon  her  lips ; 
she  had  not  the  strength  to  complete  her  self-imposed  sacri- 
fice now,  and  she  silently  yielded.  But  it  was  in  vain  that 
they  attempted  to  control  her  resolution  of  remaining  with  Mrs. 
Murphy  to  await  Rick's  return — in  vain  they  used  every 
entreaty  to  persuade  her  to  return  to  Dhrommacohol  at  least 
for  the  time  of  his  absence  :  her  determination  was  firm  with 
regard  to  the  place  of  her  present  abode ;  and  then  Clare, 
with  equal  firmness,  declared  her  intention  of  remaining  with 
Nora,  appealing  to  Mrs.  Murphy  for  accommodation ;  and 
the  latter  lady  gave  delighted  assurance  of  her  willingness  and 
ability  to  grant  the  request. 

Mr.  Dennier's  influence,  vigorously  exerted  as  it  was,  was 
powerless  to  win  all  he  craved  for  his  friends.  The  governor 
of  the  prison  was  under  too  strict  a  charge  to  be  able  to 
throw  open  Carroll's  cell  as  often  as  the  young  ex- officer 
hoped — and  this  visit,  and  perhaps  one  more  before  the  final 
parting,  was  all  that  could  be  anticipated.  Thus  it  was  with 
the  saddest  emotions  that  the  little  party  of  three  left  Mrs. 
Murphy's  for  the  jail. 

It  needed  no  words  from  the  unhappy  prisoner  to  convince 
Nora  of  the  unchangeableness  of  his  affection  ;  the  fond, 
devoted,  yet  agonizing  look  that  he  turned  upon  her,  the 
thrilling  touch  of  his  wasted  hand,  spoke  more  eloquently 
than  a  thousand  utterances,  and  she  nestled  by  his  side,  happy 
and  rested  for  the  moment  in  being  so  near  him,  and  yet 
broken-hearted  at  the  thought  of  that  fate  which  was  so 


4o6  CARROLL  VDONOGHUB. 

to  snatch  him  from  her.  For  the  first  few  moments  but  little 
was  said — the  dreadful  shadow  of  that  approaching  doom 
overhung  them  all,  and  restrained  for  a  time  even  the  words 
that  Father  Meagher  would  speak  ;  but  at  last  the  interchange 
of  final  thoughts  and  sentiments  began,  and  Carroll,  antici- 
pating the  clergyman,  himself  reverted  to  the  traitor,  Morty 
Carter. 

"  I  attempted  to  tell  you  of  his  perfidy,"  said  the  priest, 
11  that  you  might  be  on  your  guard  ;  but  you  would  not  listen  ! " 

"  I  remember,"  said  Carroll,  putting  his  hand  wildly  to  his 
forehead  ;  "  I  remember,"  he  repeated,  his  voice  showing  how 
much  that  painful  memory  cost  him,  "  and  oh,  I  understand 
it  all ! " 

"  Tell  me,  my  boy," — the  priest  stood  up,  putting  his  hand 
affectionately  on  Carroll's  shoulder, — "  what  are  your  feelings 
for  this  poor  wretch — can  you  forgive  him  ?  " 

The  prisoner's  hand  sought  the  crucifix  within  his  bosom. 
"With  this,  father,  before  my  eyes" — holding  up  the  image 
which  he  drew  forth, — "  and  remembering  that  a  greater  than 
I  was  betrayed  before  me,  I  have  learned  to  forgive  him." 

"  Thank  God  ! "  the  kind  old  clergyman's  eyes  were  moist 
with  the  earnestness  of  his  thanksgiving,  and  Nora  too  looked 
up  with  humid,  grateful  glance. 

The  time  allotted  for  the  visit  was  short,  and  hardly  had 
the  full  tide  of  loving  confidence  begun  when  the  turnkey  was 
at  the  door  signaling  for  the  visitors  to  come  forth.  They 
tore  themselves  from  the  prisoner,  turning  again  and  again 
from  the  threshold  to  look  fond,  mournful  adieus ;  but  the 
door  of  the  cell  at  last  shut  them  out,  and  the  poor  captive 
was  left  to  resume  that  intercourse  with  Heaven  which  alont 
made  him  resigned  to  his  fate,  and  strong  to  suffer. 


CHAPTER  LI. 

FATHER   O'CONNOR'S   TALE. 

IK  one  of  the  courtly  apartments  of  Dublin  Castle,  with 
•undry  papers  and  dispatches  spread  on  an  open  cabinet 
before  him,  sat  Lord  Heathcote.  His  face  wore  an  anxious, 
disturbed  look,  and  his  hands  nervously  turned  over  the  doc- 
uments. One,  a  recently  dated  letter,  came  to  his  grasp,  and 
though  he  had  evidently  perused  it  before,  he  scanned  it  again 
with  more  than  ordinary  interest,  reading  aloud  the  following 
portion  : 

"  Captain  Dennier  is  still  in  Tralee  ;  he  has  been  more  than 
once  in  company  with  a  Catholic  clergyman  and  a  young  lady 
who  is  reported  to  be  the  ward  of  the  latter,  and  the  sister  of 
the  Fenian  prisoner,  Carroll  O'Donoghue.  He  was  also 
present  in  the  court  during  the  trial  of  the  Fenian  prisoner, 
Carroll  O'Donoghue.  What  his  business  in  Tralee  is  I  have 
been  unable  to  discover." 

The  nobleman  put  down  the  missive  without  reading 
farther,  and  threw  himself  back  in  his  chair  as  if  he  would 
yield  to  some  painfully  absorbing  reflection.  There  was  a 
signal  for  ingress  at  the  door,  and  to  his  response  a  servant 
entered  with  a  note.  The  nobleman  hastily  tore  it  open  : 

"  To  His  HONOR,  LORD  HEATHCOTE  : 

Will  your  lordship  kind- 
ly consent  to  see  a  Catholic  clergyman  on  business  of  vital 
importance — the  unfolding  of  a  tale  which  dates  back  more 
than  a  quarter  of  a  century,  and  which  will  disclose  at  this 
late  date  the  perfidy  that  has  separated  two  faithful  heart* 
and  sent  one  broken  to  the  grave  ? 

I  have  the  honor  to  remain 

Your  lordship's  obedient  servant, 

REV.  CHARLES  O'CONNOR. 

Again  and  again  Lord  Heathcote  read  the  brief  missive,  hit 
(407) 


^08  CARROLL  aDONOGHUE. 

face  darkening,  and  his  manner  growing  strangely  excited. 

"  I  will  see  the  gentleman,"  he  said,  at  length,  to  the  attend- 
ant in  waiting.  "  Conduct  him  here." 

The  servant  withdrew,  and  in  a  few  minutes  Father  O'Con- 
nor stood  in  his  lordship's  presence.  With  no  diminution  of 
his  wonted  ease  and  grace  of  manner,  the  priest  courteously, 
but  calmly,  saluted  the  nobleman  ;  and  save  for  an  unwonted 
color  in  his  cheeks,  and  a  strange  sparkle  in  his  eyes,  one 
would  little  have  dreamed  that  he  was  inwardly  the  prey  of 
violent  emotions.  Lord  Heathcote  had  simply  inclined  his 
head,  not  deigning  even  to  motion  his  visitor  to  a  chair  ;  but 
the  latter's  own  ineffable  grace,  and  the  sweetness  of  a  coun- 
tenance which  combined  the  charm  of  physical  and  spiritual 
beauty,  gained  insensibly  upon  the  nobleman  ;  he  found  him- 
self, somewhat  to  his  own  surprise,  requesting  the  clergyman 
to  be  seated. 

"  Pardon  me,  my  lord,"  answered  the  priest,  "  if  I  ask  to  be 
permitted  to  stand.  I  am  only  here  for  the  purpose  of  un~ 
folding  to  you  this  tale  ;  I  have  nought  to  do  with  the  result 
— that  will  remain  with  your  lordship." 

"This  tale  ?"  repeated  Lord  Heathcote,  straightening  him- 
self in  his  chair,  and  speaking  coldly,  that  he  might  hide  hia 
agitation  ;  "  why  do  you  ask  to  unfold  it  to  me  ?  " 

"  Because  it  directly  concerns  your  lordship — because  you 
alone  have  the  power  of  meting  out  justice  to  the  injured 
parties ! " 

"  Speak  on  ! "  commanded  the  nobleman,  shading  his  face 
with  his  hand. 

"  Have  I  your  lordship's  permission  to  tell  the  tale  in  my 
own  way — to  go  back  to  the  beginning,  and  give  you  the 
dates  and  the  facts  as  I  received  them  ?  " 

"  You  have — go  on." 

The  flush  in  the  priest's  face  deepened.  "  Twenty-seven 
years  ago,"  he  began,  his  voice  for  the  first  time  slightly 
trembling,  "  there  lived  in  one  of  the  northern  counties  of 
Ireland  an  aged  t  impoverished,  Catholic 


FATHER  O'CONNOR'S  TALK  4O9 

gentleman  named  Dougherty.  Only  one  member  of  his  fan> 
ily  remained  to  him — a  daughter.  This  girl,  Marie,  who  had 
not  yet  reached  her  seventeenth  year,  was  famed  throughout 
the  liule  district  in  which  they  lived  for  her  devotion  to  her 
father,  her  kindness  to  the  poor,  and  her  extraordinary 
beauty.  Educated  by  her  accomplished  father,  her  culture 
rivaled  that  of  more  richly  nurtured  ladies,  and  her  kind  and 
simple  manner  won  for  her  universal  affection.  Near  them 
lived  a  young  man  named  Mortimer  Carter  ;  he  had  scarcely  at- 
tained his  twentieth  year,  but  natural  sharpness  and  an  educa- 
tion which  had  been  the  boon  of  a  wealthy,  deceased  uncle, 
had  fitted  him  for  schemes  demanding  rare  skill  of  brain  and 
strength  of  nerve.  The  last  of  a  family  which  early  decay 
brought  at  youthful  ages  to  the  grave,  he  was  the  trusted  and 
cherished  inmate  of  an  abode  that  comprised  a  newly-wedded 
couple  as  youthful  as  himself.  The  husband,  Richard  Sulli- 
van, lived  but  for  his  wife,  and  devoted  every  energy  to  mak- 
ing for  her  a  comfortable  livelihood.  Springing  from  an 
honest,  well-to-do  stock,  he  also  had  received  a  fair  education, 
and  sought  opportunities  of  adding  to  the  latter  by  receiving 
instruction  during  the  long  winter  evenings  from  their  young 
boarder  and  friend,  Mortimer  Carter.  Carter,  from  the  first 
opportunity  that  enabled  him  to  render  some  important  ser- 
vice to  Mr.  Dougherty,  and  which  gained  for  him  frequent 
access  to  the  house,  was  struck  with  admiration  and  love  of 
the  beautiful  daughter.  He  concealed  the  fact,  however,  prob- 
ably because  he  feared  that  a  disclosure  of  it  would  exclude 
him  from  the  family,  and  he  feigned  to  be  only  the  ardent  and 
disinterested  friend.  In  time,  and  before  Marie  had  reached 
her  eighteenth  year,  there  visited  that  part  of  Ireland  a  young 
gentleman,  the  sole  scion  of  a  wealthy  and  ancient  English 
house.  A  title  would  descend  to  him  on  his  father's  death, 
but  until  then  the  young  man,  who  was  simple  in  his  tastes 
and  preferred  quiet  and  obscurity  to  the  ostentation  of  wealth, 
chose  rather  to  be  known  by  his  own  plain  name  of  Berkeley. 
Accident  brought  Marie  Dougherty  to  his  notice,  and  di* 


I0  CARROLL  ffDONOQHUR. 

closed  sufficient  of  her  cultivated  mind  to  win  the  young  stran- 
ger's heart.  He  found  his  way  to  the  cottage,  and  by  his  ad- 
dress obtained  the  favor  of  the  old  gentleman  ;  a  few  weeks 
more,  and  his  love  was  reciprocated  entirely  with  the  father's 
sanction,  though  Marie  refused  to  marry,  because  young  Berke- 
ley was  not  of  her  faith.  He  promised  her  untrameled  free- 
dom  in  her  practice  of  her  religion,  unrestrained  liberty  in  the 
Catholic  education  of  their  offspring,  should  Heaven  grant 
them  such  ;  but  still  the  pious  girl  hesitated,  and  so  great  and 
so  entirely  trusted  a  friend  was  Mortimer  Carter,  that  it  was 
into  his  ears  she  poured  her  doubts  and  fears.  Her  fond  old 
father,  fearing  from  the  growing  feebleness  of  his  health  his 
own  speedy  demise,  and  confident  from  all  that  he  had  ob- 
served of  their  young  visitor,  and  from  numerous  letters  which 
the  latter  had  shown,  that  his  daughter's  future  would  be  well 
assured,  would  have  persuaded  her  into  the  alliance  ;  but  she, 
though  loving  with  all  the  strength  of  her  nature,  still  hesi- 
tated because  he  was  not  of  her  faith,  until  the  blow  fell 
which  her  father  had  feared.  He  was  stricken  with  a  fatal 
illness,  and  yielding  at  last  to  his  wish,  she  was  married  by  his 
dying  bed.  A  Catholic  priest  performed  the  ceremony  which 
united  Marie  Dougherty  to  Walter  Berkeley,  and  Mortimer 
Carter  and  Richard  Sullivan  were  the  witnesses.  Immedi- 
ately afterward,  however,  a  college  mate  of  young  Berkeley's 
who  had  taken  orders  in  the  Episcopal  Church,  and  who  hap- 
pened to  be  visiting  in  the  vicinity,  performed  the  ceremony 
anew,  that  no  invalidity  might  ever  be  brought  against  it" 

Father  O'Connor  paused,  as  if  he  expected  some  remark 
from  his  listener,  but  the  latter  was  as  motionless  as  though 
he  had  been  turned  to  stone — not  a  tremor  being  visible  even 
in  the  hand  which  shaded  his  face.  The  priest  resumed  : 

44  Young  Berkeley  was  not  in  possession  of  much  fortune  ; 
his  father  was  a  hard  man,  and  ill  disposed  to  gratify  youth- 
ful extravagance ;  still  less  would  he,  with  his  strong  English 
and  Protestant  prejudices,  brook  the  thought  of  his  heir  mar- 
rying an  Irish  Catholic.  So  the  young  man  deemed  it  best 


FATHER  V CONNOR 8  TALK  4,, 

to  write  nothing  of  his  alliance  in  his  letters  home  ;  he  had 
sufficient  means  to  live  in  comfort,  and  the  novelty  of  his  sim- 
ple home,  with  the  constant  charm  of  a  beautiful  wife  whom 
he  devotedly  loved,  amply  compensated  for  the  loss  of  titled 
grandeur. 

"  Mortimer  Carter  was  now  the  trusted  friend  of  both  wife 
and  husband  ;  the  latter,  induced  by  the  kindly  representations 
of  Marie,  and  influenced  by  her  example,  learned  to  make  an 
entire  confidant  of  him. 

"  Thus  they  lived  for  a  year,  when  Marie  gave  birth  to  twin 
boys  ;  they  were  christened,  by  the  clergyman  who  had  per- 
formed the  first  marriage  ceremony,  Walter  and  William.  At 
the  same  time  a  little  girl  was  born  to  Richard  Sullivan,  but 
at  the  expense  of  its  mother's  life,  and  the  babe  was  left  to 
the  care  of  its  heart-broken  father.  A  kind  neighbor  volun- 
teered to  assist  him  in  its  care,  and  Sullivan  soon  learned  to 
concentrate  in  his  child  the  love  which  he  fancied  had  been 
buried  in  the  coffin  of  his  wife. 

"  One  night,  just  as  he  had  parted  from  the  caress  of  his 
little  one,  now  old  enough  to  evince  her  delight  at  his  pres- 
ence, he  met  on  a  lonely  road  a  bailiff  with  whom  in  bygone 
days  Sullivan's  father  had  some  unpleasant  transaction. 
Contrary  to  wonted  circumstances,  old  Mr.  Sullivan  had  tri- 
umphed, and  the  bailiff  was  made  thereby  more  angry  and  re- 
vengeful. He  never  lost  an  opportunity  of  taunting  any  mem- 
ber of  the  family,  and  on  this  occasion  he  poured  forth  a 
torrent  of  abuse  on  young  Sullivan,  and  spoke  insultingly  of 
the  latter's  father,  long  reposing  in  his  grave.  The  young 
man  was  goaded  beyond  endurance — in  the  heat  of  sudden 
passion  he  struck  his  aggressor  a  most  unfortunate  blow  ;  the 
man,  after  three  heavy  groans,  expired. 

"  While  the  murderer,  realizing  what  he  had  done,  stood 
horror-stricken  above  the  corpse,  unable  either  to  leave  it,  or 
to  take  precautions  of  secrecy,  accident  led  Mortimer  Carter 
to  the  very  spot.  With  his  usual  quickness  he  immediately 
thought  of  a  plan  by  which  the  guilt  could  be  transferred. 


4,t  CARROLL  VDONOQHUB. 

The  ribbon  men  were  about,  their  aggressions  frequent,  and  ac 
the  murdered  bailiff  was  known  to  be  disliked  because  of  his 
hard  measures,  it  would  excite  little  wonder  or  doubt,  could  it 
be  made  to  appear  that  he  was  another  victim  of  the  mys- 
terious band.  Carter  was  familiar  with  their  signs,  and  it  re- 
quired but  little  time  to  affix  to  the  corpse  the  paper  which 
should  tell  of  another  crime  by  the  nightly  marauders.  They 
'hurried  from  the  spot,  the  deadly  secret  buried  in  both  breasts. 

"  Carter's  ruse  succeeded ;  there  was  not  a  suspicion  that 
the  bailiff  was  murdered  in  any  other  manner  ;  but  Sullivan 
was  haunted  by  a  horrible  remorse  ;  safe  though  he  was,  his 
fears  gave  him  little  peace,  and  the  love  for  his  child  alone  re- 
strained him  from  some  desperate  act 

*  Letters  from  England  requesting  young  Berkeley's  return 
had  become  frequent ;  letters  which  contained  ardent  expres- 
sions of  the  old  lord's  desire  for  his  son  to  contract  a  befitting 
alliance,  and  there  was  mentioned  the  name  of  the  lady  so 
designed.  But  Berkeley  gave  little  heed,  returning  evasive  re- 
plies— now  citing  his  health  as  demanding  a  longer  stay,  now 
expressing  a  desire  to  prosecute  at  further  length  some  re- 
searches. And  thus  matters  continued  for  a  little  more  than 
another  year,  when  a  third  child  was  born — a  girl  ;  it  was 
christened  Marie.  Then,  when  the  young  mother  was  still  too 
weak  to  clasp  her  baby,  a  letter  came  demanding  young  Berke- 
ley's instant  presence  in  England — his  father  was  dying.  The 
young  man,  seized  with  remorse  for  his  long  absence,  hurried 
his  departure,  leaving  to  the  care  of  the  still  trusted  and  cher- 
ished friend,  Mortimer  Carter,  his  little  household.  He  tore 
himself  from  his  babes  and  his  wife,  telling  the  latter  not  to 
fatigue  herself  in  her  weak  state  by  writing  to  him — that  Mor- 
timer would  do  all.  And  thus  he  departed." 

Again  Father  O'Connor  paused,  but  there  was  still  no  mo- 
tion from  the  statue-like  form  in  the  easy-chair  ;  and  there  was 
no  remark,  further  than  a  brief  request  to  proceed.  The  cler- 
gyman drew  forth  his  little  pocket  tablets,  and  holding  them  i» 
a  convenient  manner  for  frequent  consultation,  resumed  : 


FATHER  O'COmrOKS  TALE.  4,3 

"  Now  was  the  time  for  Carter's  work  ;  he  had  never  ceased 
to  love  Marie  Dougherty,  wife  though  she  had  become,  and 
jealousy  of  the  youthful  husband,  combined  with  his  own  un- 
requited passion,  made  him  skillful  to  plot,  and  strong  to  exe- 
cute. Mrs.  Berkeley,  instead  of  recovering,  seemed  to  grow 
daily  weaker  ;  indeed,  she  was  in  no  condition  to  answer  her 
husband's  affectionate  letters,  which  came  with  every  mail, 
and  upon  Mortimer  devolved  entirely  the  task  of  amanuensis. 
She  would  not  suffer  him,  however,  to  state  truly  her  feeble 
condition  ;  she  insisted  rather  that  he  would  ascribe  it  to  her 
perfect  obedience  to  her  husband's  request  regarding  her  fa- 
tigue. So  Mortimer,  by  the  young  wife's  own  feebly  accorded 
permission,  had  ample  opportunity  to  read  each  English  let- 
ter when  it  came,  and  from  them  he  learned  that  the  illness 
of  the  old  lord,  fatal  as  it  was  certain  to  be,  might  still  pro- 
tract itself  to  the  duration  of  months,  and  that  young  Berke- 
ley, owing  to  the  slight  tenure  upon  which  his  father's  life 
was  held,  could  not  tell  him  of  his  marriage — that  he  was  even, 
for  the  sake  of  that  frail  life,  compelled  in  a  measure  to  feign 
assent  to  a  future  alliance  with  the  lady  whose  name,  from 
past  letters,  was  familiar  to  Marie.  But  all  gave  the  devoted 
wife  little  concern — she  loved  her  husband  so  truly,  she  con- 
fided in  him  so  surely,  that  nothing  short  of  his  own  sworn 
statement  would  convince  her  that  she  had  anything  to  fear. 
Carter  studied  to  imitate  Berkeley's  handwriting  ;  he  suc- 
ceeded admirably,  and  then,  intercepting  the  next  English  let- 
ter which  came,  he  opened  it,  and  substituted  for  its  content* 
a  letter  which  he  had  penned  in  his  forged  hand. 

"  That  letter  told  the  young  wife  that  her  husband,  yielding 
at  last  to  his  father's  persuasions,  was  about  to  m?rry  the  lady 
with  whose  name  Marie  was  familiar.  It  deplored  the  cruel 
necessity,  it  assured  her  of  his  undiminished  affection,  but  it 
repeated  in  unmistakable  terms  the  terrible  fact  Marie, 
with  sudden  supernatural  strength,  arose  from  her  couch  a 
determined  and  desperate  woman  ;  she  would  go  immediately 
to  England,  she  would  force  her  way  to  the  dying  lord,  she 


4I4  CARROLL  VDONOGHUR 

would  herself  proclaim  her  marriage — not  for  her  own  sake, 
but  for  that  of  her  children.  The  very  strength  of  her  grief 
favored  Carter's  designs  ;  he  approved  of  her  resolution,  he 
sought  to  facilitate  it  when  she  announced  her  determination 
to  take  her  baby  with  her,  by  proposing  to  find  a  trusty  man 
to  take  care  of  the  little  party,  which  would  consist  of  the 
mother,  and  infant,  and  a  nurse  for  the  latter,  while  he  would 
remain  to  guard  the  twin  brothers,  now  sturdy  little  fellows  of 
eighteen  months.  She  assented,  and  Carter  sought  Richard 
Sullivan.  To  him  he  made  it  appear  a  necessary  and  noble 
act  to  accompany  the  young  wife  to  England,  but  not,  how- 
ever, to  lead  her  as  she  desired  to  the  home  of  her  husband  ; 
instead,  she  was  to  be  conducted  to  a  different  part,  and  there 
kept  in  seclusion  till  Carter  could  join  her.  Carter  insisted 
that  such  a  course  was  absolutely  necessary,  in  order  that  she 
might  retain  her  children,  and  preserve  to  them  their  faith — 
otherwise  their  treacherous  father  would  tear  them  from  her  ; 
and  Sullivan's  warmest  sympathies  were  enlisted,  and  full 
only  of  a  wild  anxiety  to  save  this  broken-hearted  woman 
another  blow,  he  finally  consented.  Unsuspecting  Marie  grate- 
fully agreed  to  travel  with  Richard,  whom  she  well  knew,  and 
Carter,  having  promised  to  take  Richard's  place  for  the  time 
to  the  latter's  little  one,  supplied  him  with  ample  means. 

"  But  the  night  before  the  journey,  as  Marie  stood  trem- 
blingly looking  at  her  marriage  certificates  preparatory  to  put- 
ting them  safely  away — for  they  were  to  accompany  her — the 
reaction  of  her  strained  feelings,  her  sudden  unnatural  strength, 
her  wild  fears  set  in,  and  she  fell  fainting  to  the  floor.  When 
•he  recovered  it  was  with  her  reason  gone — her  bright,  culti- 
vated mind  had  flown  forever.  Carter,  prepared  for  any 
emergency,  kept  the  fact  of  her  harmless  insanity  a  secret  even 
from  the  few  servants  in  the  little  household,  bringing  for 
immediate  attendance  upon  her  a  foolish  girl  of  the  neighbor- 
hood ;  but,  innocent  though  the  latter  was  termed  by  the 
neighbors,  she  had  sufficient  sense  to  wait  upon  her  mistress, 
and  idiocy  enough  not  to  understand  what  might  be  going  oa 
•bout  her. 


FATHER  Of  CONNOR  8  TALE.  4,- 

"  The  journey  was  delayed,  and  Carter  wrote  to  Berkeley 
one  of  the  letters  which  the  latter  was  wont  to  receive  from 
his  wife  Then,  while  waiting  for  Marie  to  gain  strength  suf- 
ficient to  leave  her  couch,  he  feigned  to  have  frequent  need 
of  Sullivan  at  the  house,  forming  pretenses  which  should  take 
the  latter,  who  was  not  ill-looking,  nor  of  bad  address  at  that 
time,  to  Marie's  room  at  questionable  hours,  and  taking 
care  that  some  of  the  gossiping  servants  should  know  of  the 
fact  He  further  pretended  to  the  domestics  to  be  astounded 
at,  and  suspicious  of,  the  favor  with  which  young  Sullivan 
seemed  to  be  received  by  the  lady  of  the  house,  hinting  that 
an  attachment  had  existed  between  them  previous  to  her 
more  advantageous  marriage  ;  but  of  all  this  young  Sullivan, 
anxious  alone  to  be  of  service  to  the  young  creature  whom  he 
sincerely  pitied,  was  ignorant.  He  fell  blindly  into  the  trap 
which  was  prepared  for  him.  Marie  had  recovered  strength 
to  walk,  but  she  still  remained  without  sufficient  mind  to  rec- 
ognize any  one  but  her  baby  ;  and  Carter  came  to  Sullivan 
with  a  marriage  certificate  in  which  the  name  of  Walter  Berke- 
ley had  been  skillfully  erased,  and  Richard  Sullivan  inserted 
in  its  place.  He  pretended  to  have  received  news  of  the  im- 
mediate return  of  Berkeley,  and  he  affrightedly  said  that  the 
very  condition  of  the  poor  wife  would  but  further  the  hus- 
band's design  of  casting  her  off,  and  taking  her  children — 
that  as  a  foil  to  this,  and  as  there  might  be  danger  of  meeting 
him  if  he  now  made  a  journey  to  England,  he  had  thought 
of  another  plan.  That  Richard  should  pass  to  strangers  as 
her  husband — she  was  in  no  condition  to  contradict  the  state- 
ment ;  and  for  that  purpose,  lest  any  one  perhaps,  surprised 
at  the  eminent  superiority  of  the  beautiful  wife,  should  ques- 
tion the  assertion,  he  had  changed  the  marriage  certificate 
which  certified  to  her  marriage  by  a  Catholic  clergyman. 
Sullivan  could  travel  with  her  and  her  baby,  from  whom  she 
refused  to  be  separated  for  an  instant,  to  the  southern  part  of 
Ireland,  and  there  wait  for  Carter  to  join  them  with  the  twin 
boys  ;  he  also  promised  to  bring  with  him  Sullivan's  little 


4,6  CARROLL  VDONOGHUS. 

daughter.  Again  poor  Sullivan,  though  at  first  shrinking  and 
hesitating,  was  induced  to  consent,  and  from  no  motive  but 
that  of  saving  Marie  and  her  children. 

"  Shrouding  their  departure  with  all  the  secrecy  he  could 
throw  about  it,  Carter  saw  them  go  :  the  poor  young  wife — 
having  been  induced  to  allow  her  baby  to  be  carried  by  the 
foolish  girl  who  had  been  her  last  attendant — clinging  to  Sul- 
livan's arm  and  laughing  as  gleefully  as  a  child.  Then  Carter 
turned  to  the  execution  of  the  remainder  of  his  plot.  He 
stole  immediately  from  the  little  household  one  of  the  twin 
brothers,  the  baby  William,  and  traveled  with  it  to  friends 
whom  he  expected  to  find  in  the  extreme  northern  part  of 
Ireland.  He  found,  however,  that  his  friends  had  emigrated 
to  America  nearly  a  year  and  a  half  before,  taking  with  them 
their  sole  child,  at  that  time  a  boy  of  six  months.  That  in- 
formation made  him  determine  on  another  plan.  The  babe 
of  six  months  who  had  been  taken  to  America,  and  whose 
name  was  Charles  O'Connor,  would  be  now  about  the  same 
age  as  the  little  William  Berkeley,  the  companion  of  Carter's 
journey.  Going  to  the  parish  clerk,  he  obtained  a  copy  of  the 
baptismal  certificate  of  little  Charles  O'Connor  on  the  pre- 
tense of  being  commissioned  to  do  so  by  the  child's  parents  ; 
and  then,  hastening  to  a  remote  convent,  he  induced  the  good 
religious  to  assume  temporary  charge  of  his  little  com- 
panion, to  whom  he  gave  the  same  name  as  that  on  the  bap- 
tismal certificate.  Then  he  returned,  and  he  pretended  to  be 
amazed  and  horrified  by  the  discovery  of  the  elopement  of 
Berkeley's  young  wife  with  Richard  Sullivan.  Already  he  had 
paved  the  way  for  belief  in  the  horrible  tale  by  the  few  ser- 
vants of  the  house,  and  they  had  not  been  slow  to  propagate 
hints  of  the  scandal  abroad.  The  whole  district,  comprising 
even  those  to  whom  her  charity  had  been  most  largely  dis- 
pensed, and  by  whom  the  purity  of  her  character  should  have 
been  undoubted,  seemed  to  be  convinced  of  her  guilt,  and 
expressions  of  horror  came  from  every  mouth.  It  was  re- 
ported that  she  had  taken  two  of  the  children  with  her — many 


FATHER  Of  CONNOR  8  TALK  4,j 

asked  why  she  had  left  the  third.  Carter  insinuated  that  it 
was  because  he  bore  his  father's  name,  Walter. 

"Giving  sufficient  time  for  Richard  to  have  advanced  far 
on  his  journey,  Carter  wrote  to  the  young  husband  an  account 
of  the  terrible  circumstance  ;  then,  pending  the  answer, 
which  he  felt  would  be  young  Berkeley  in  person,  he  repaired 
to  the  woman  who  had  charge  of  Sullivan's  little  daughter ; 
deploring  the  guilt  which  now  attached  to  her  father,  and  ex- 
pressing his  assurance  of  the  fact  that  the  little  girl  was  en- 
tirely deserted,  he  announced  his  intention  of  caring  for  the 
child.  Amply  compensating  the  woman,  and  without  telling 
his  destination,  he  departed  with  the  little  one. 

"  Young  Berkeley  came,  as  Carter  had  anticipated — came 
with  all  the  incredulousness  of  a  devoted  and  entirely  trusting 
affection.  He  found  the  proofs  of  the  horrid  tale  in  his  de- 
serted household,  in  Carter's  apparently  distracted  demeanor, 
in  the  account  given  by  the  servants,  in  the  excited  gossip  of 
the  place.  Horrified,  sickened,  he  seemed  after  the  first 
dreadful  shock  to  shut  himself  within  a  stern  pride  and  re- 
serve. What  his  feelings  were  no  one  knew.  When  Carter 
would  propose  pursuit  of  the  fugitive,  and  at  least  recapture 
of  the  children,  the  young  husband  answered  sternly : 

"  '  She  has  stained  my  name  ;  let  her  infamy  shroud  her 
and  hers  ! ' 

"  He  paid  and  dismissed  the  servants,  bade  Carter  a  short 
farewell,  and  engaging  a  nurse  for  his  remaining  child,  de- 
parted with  it  to  England. 

"  In  the  interval  Sullivan,  passing  as  the  husband  of  Marie, 
and  the  father  of  her  beautiful  babe,  journeyed  to  the  place 
designated  by  Carter  ;  but  in  a  village  near  Tralee  the  poor 
young  mother  became  unable  to  proceed.  They  were  in  an 
inn,  and  Richard,  in  deep  distress,  knew  not  what  to  do  ;  the 
kind  landlady  called  the  attention  of  the  Catholic  pastor  to 
the  case,  and  he  in  turn,  strangely  interested,  brought  it  to  the 
notice  of  one  of  his  wealthy  and  estimable  parishioners,  Mrs. 
O'Donoghue.  She  immediately  removed  the  little  family  to 


4lg  CARROLL  O'DONOGHTTR 

her  own  spacious  home,  and  there  cared  for  the  sick  lady  with 
all  the  tenderness  of  a  mother.  Sullivan  was  interrogated 
upon  his  past  history ;  he  shrunk  from  maintaining  the  false 
pretenses  he  had  been  induced  to  assume,  and  he  felt  that 
he  had  met  with  true  friends,  who  would  aid  in  rescuing  his 
unhappy  charge  ;  but  he  feared  to  change  his  line  of  conduct 
without  Carter's  sanction,  and  as  there  was  not  time  to  com- 
municate with  the  latter  before  satisfying  his  questioner,  he 
determined  for  the  present  to  adhere  to  his  falsehood,  and 
after,  when  he  should  have  acquainted  Carter  with  the  whole, 
he  would  retract  his  statement,  giving  reasons  for  the  same 
which  must  prove  a  sufficient  excuse.  So  he  told  an  appar- 
ently straightforward  story — a  truthful  one  so  far  as  Marie's 
early  life  was  concerned,  adding  that  in  her  unprotected  state 
her  dying  father  had  consented  to  her  union  with  a  man  who 
was  her  inferior  in  everything  save  honesty.  Illness  after  the 
birth  of  her  child  had  unsettled  her  reason,  and  they  were  on 
their  way  to  friends  who  would  care  properly  for  her.  Sulli- 
van also  produced  the  marriage  certificate,  and  thus  convinced 
Mrs.  O'Donoghue  and  Father  Meagher  of  the  truth  of  his 
tale.  But  Richard  had  no  opportunity  of  retracting  his  story  ; 
his  account  to  Carter  brought  back  immediate  directions  to 
maintain  the  part  he  had  undertaken,  that  he,  Carter,  would 
explain  why  when  he  joined  him,  as  he  speedily  intended  to 
do.  All  the  tender  care  availed  naught ;  Marie  died,  clasping 
her  baby,  but  giving  no  other  sign  of  returning  reason  ;  and 
Mrs.  O'Donoghue,  charmed  with,  and  strangely  attracted  to, 
the  beautiful  infant,  proposed  to  Sullivan  that  she  should 
adopt  it.  Poor,  unhappy  Sullivan,  too  glad  to  be  rid  of  a 
charge  which  galled  him  to  care  whether  this  proceeding  on  his 
part  would  please  Carter  or  not,  eagerly  consented,  and  when 
they  would  have  continued  to  call  the  little  one  Marie  Sulli- 
van, he  begged  them  not  to — saying  that  now,  as  the  child 
was  provided  with  such  a  home  as  it  should  have  been  her 
mother's  right  to  grace,  and  as  her  future  would  be  one  befit- 
ting all  her  lady  mother's  culture,  that  he  would  not  mar  hei 


FATHER  VCONNOK8  TALK  4ig 

prospects  by  thrusting  himself,  comparatively  uneducated  as 
he  was,  and  so  inferior  as  he  felt  himself  to  be,  in  her  path — 
he  would  rather  that  his  identity  be  concealed  from  her  ;  let 
her  think  that  her  parents  had  both  died,  and  he  would  be 
happy  in  knowing  that  she  was  so  well  provided  for — in  being 
occasionally  near  her  when  she  would  not  know  of  the  fact. 
For  that  purpose  he  wished  her  name  changed.  His  wishes 
were  gratified,  though  the  kind  people  wondered  much  at  an 
affection  which,  seeming  to  be  so  deep,  could  thus  make  an 
entire  surrender  of  its  beloved  object.  That  arrangement  had 
been  little  more  than  completed  when  Carter  arrived  in  the 
neighborhood,  bringing  with  him  little  William  Berkeley,  whom 
he  had  taken  from  the  convent  in  which  he  had  temporarily 
placed  him.  To  Sullivan's  dismay,  he  did  not  bring  the  lat- 
ter's  child  ;  and  then  for  the  first  time  the  poor  fellow  discov- 
ered how  sadly  he  had  been  the  dupe  of  Carter's  nefarious 
schemes.  The  whole  of  Carter's  jealousy  and  hate  of  young 
Berkeley,  his  unrequited  passion  for  Marie,  the  successive  steps 
by  which  his  plot  of  villainy  had  been  executed — all  were 
bared,  and  Sullivan  discovered  for  the  first  time  that  the  fury 
which  had  refused  to  spare  ks  two  fated  objects  would  hence- 
forth relentlessly  pursue  him,  unless  he  yielded  implicit  assent 
to  every  future  scheme.  It  threatened  him  with  disclosure  of 
the  murder — it  told  with  infernal  triumph  of  the  abduction  of 
the  little  one  which  was  to  Sullivan  as  the  apple  of  his  eye ; 
and  when  the  poor,  duped  man,  appalled,  despairing,  and 
desperate,  sought  for  some  outlet  from  his  dreadful  situation, 
Carter  mockingly  bade  him  remember  that  he  was  a  wretched 
culprit, — on  every  side  were  proofs  of  his  horrible  guilt,  and 
that  did  he  set  foot  within  the  place  from  which  he  had  taken 
Marie,  it  would  only  be  to  fall  into  the  merciless  hands  of 
those  whom  young  Berkeley  had  employed  to  avenge  his 
wrongs ;  and  Carter  threatened  further  to  remove  Sullivan's 
little  daughter,  Cathleen,  whom  he  had  already  abducted,  to 
some  place  utterly  beyond  her  unhappy  father's  reach ;  but 
h«  pledged  himself,  if  Sullivan  remained  true  to  kirn,  to  Ukt 


420  CARROLL 

the  most  tender  care  of  her,  and  in  the  future,  when  all  feat 
of  discovery  of  Carter's  villainy  should  be  removed,  to  restore 
her,  rich,  educated  and  accomplished — he  promised,  however, 
that  in  the  event  of  her  dangerous  illness,  her  father  should  be 
conducted  to  her. 

"The  meshes  of  that  web  of  villainy  were  too  intricately 
and  skillfully  woven  about  the  wretched  man  to  permit  him 
to  make  an  effort  to  escape,  and  when  reflection  convinced 
him  that  any  attempt  he  might  make  to  expose  Carter's  guilt 
would  be  futile  because  of  his  inability  to  produce  proofs  of 
the  same,  and  that  perhaps  such  endeavor  on  his  part  would 
only  result  in  more  suffering  to  himself,  even  perpetual  sep- 
aration from  his  child,  he  became  the  unresisting  tool  of 
Carter.  Entirely  abandoning  his  once  steady  habits  of  em- 
ployment, he  tried  to  drown  his  wild  longing  for  his  child, 
and  his  dreadful  remorse,  by  indulging  a  growing  appetite  for 
liquor.  Under  that  influence  he  was  still  weaker  to  oppose 
schemes  of  evil,  and  Carter,  speedily  becoming  aware  of  that 
fact,  plied  the  poor  wretch  with  drink  in  order  to  induce  a 
readier  assent  to  his  evil  plots.  Thus  Sullivan  sunk  until  he 
became  at  last  so  wandering  a  begger,  rarely  remaining  two 
consecutive  days  in  the  same  place,  and  taking  mostly  to  the 
mountains,  that  people  gave  him  the  sobriquet  of  '  Rick  of 
the  Hills.'  Everybody  knew  him  because  of  his  wandering 
habits,  and  while  most  persons  were  repelled,  because  of  the 
repulsive  exterior  which  his  hard,  wretched  life  had  given 
him,  no  one  feared  him.  It  was  not  known  that  he  was  inti- 
mate with  Carter,  for  it  was  a  part  of  the  latter's  policy  to  con- 
ceal that  fact.  With  the  little  boy  he  had  in  charge,  Carter 
had  taken  up  his  residence  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the 
O'Donoghue  homestead  ;  he  had  sufficient  means  to  live  in  a 
style  which  must  proclaim  to  the  simple  country  folk  a  person 
of  no  mean  birth  nor  breeding,  and  as  he  was  a  regular 
attendant,  and  in  time  a  generous  benefactor  of,  the  little 
parish  chapel,  he  won  the  favor  of  the  kind-hearted  clergy- 
Giving  out  that  his  youthful  charge,  whom  he  continued 


FATHER  (f CONNOR 8  TALE.  4a, 

to  call  by  the  name  in  the  baptismal  certificate  which  he  had 
•o  fraudulently  obtained,  was  the  orphan  child  of  dear  deceased 
friends,  he  hired  a  nurse  for  it — a  woman  of  the  neighbor- 
hood whose  gossipy  character  was  in  itself  a  recommendation 
to  the  wily  Carter.  He  managed  so  that  she  should  repeat 
incidents  of  his  daily  life  and  instances  of  his  charity  which 
must  win  for  him  the  esteem  and  trust  of  the  entire  neighbor- 
hood. He  succeeded  ;  not  even  Cairn  O'Donoghue,  the  head 
of  the  O'Donoghue  homestead,  and  a  man  whose  virtues  were 
written  on  every  heart  that  ever  knew  him,  was  regarded  with 
more  favor  than  Mortimer  Carter  eventually  received. 

"  His  unrequited  love  for  Marie  had  transferred  itself  with 
as  wild  an  ardor  to  Marie's  daughter.  In  the  youthful  linea- 
ments of  the  child  was  a  growing  reproduction  of  her  mother's 
face,  and  each  time  that  Carter  saw  her,  which  he  frequently 
did,  through  opportunities  of  his  own  making,  he  yearned  to 
hasten  the  time  in  which,  with  Marie  of  marriageable  age,  he 
intended,  by  fair  means  or  foul,  to  make  her  his  wife.  He 
was  not  well  pleased  that  Sullivan  had  surrendered  possession 
of  her,  but  with  his  usual  confidence  in  his  own  ability,  he 
doubted  not,  at  the  arrival  of  the  time,  to  be  able  to  devise  a 
scheme  which  should  place  her  within  his  power. 

"  One  day  he  was  afforded  an  opportunity  of  saving  the  life 
of  the  youthful  heir  of  the  O'Donoghues — Carroll,  a  baby, 
who,  springing  from  his  nurse's  arms,  had  fallen  into  the 
stream,  on  the  bank  of  which  little  Marie,  now  known  as  Nora 
McCarthy,  and  Carter's  little  charge  had  been  playing. 
Carter,  who  was  present  and  witnessed  the  accident,  saved  the 
child.  The  boy's  parents  sought  every  means  of  testifying 
their  gratitude  ;  Carter  and  his  charge  became  constant 
visitors,  and  the  former,  in  his  business  conference  with  Cairn 
O'Donoghue,  evinced  so  much  financial  ability,  as  well  as 
shrewd  judgment  in  other  matters,  that  the  intimacy  culmi- 
nated in  Carter  making  his  abode  with  the  family,  and  his 
youthful  charge  receiving  the  same  care  and  attention  as  the 
children  of  the  house. 


42a  CARROLL  GTDONOQHUE. 

"  During  this  time  the  unhappy,  wandering  Sullivan — wan- 
dering always  with  the  hope  of  somewhere  meeting  with  his 
little  one,  and  of  whom  he  never  could  conceive  that  she  was 
other  than  the  infant  who  had  been  snatched  from  him, — fre- 
quently sought  Carter  by  stealth  to  beg  the  whereabouts  of 
his  child  ;  but  the  answer  was  always  the  same  :  the  child  was 
well,  and  well  done  for,  but  the  time  had  not  come  to  give 
her  to  her  father  ;  and  then  the  wonted  threats  were  repeated, 
and  the  liquor  used,  and  '  Rick  of  the  Hills  '  sunk  again  into 
his  miserable  cowardly  state. 

"  Mrs.  O'Donoghue,  as  beloved  as  her  husband,  died  in 
giving  birth  to  a  girl  two  years  the  junior  of  the  heir  of  the 
house,  and  the  little  family,  now  comprising  the  brother  and 
sister,  and  the  adopted  girl  and  boy,  were  as  fond  and  united 
as  though  really  bound  by  the  ties  of  kindred.  When  the 
boys  became  old  enough,  they  were  sent  to  college  ;  it  was 
the  first  separation  among  the  young  people,  and  it  was  sorely 
felt.  But  a  greater  trouble  was  to  visit  them  ;  before  the 
education  of  either  was  completed  they  were  recalled  to  the 
death-bed  of  him  who  had  been  so  true  a  father  to  them  all. 
Cairn  O'Donoghue  died,  appointing  Mortimer  Carter  the  legal 
guardian  of  his  children.  The  boys  returned  to  college,  the 
girls  lived  daily  lives  of  edification  and  blessing,  while  Carter 
apparently  was  so  exemplary  in  his  conduct  that  he  had  the 
entire  trust  and  affection  of  his  wards. 

"  On  the  completion  of  Carroll's  collegiate  course,  and  when 
he  came  home  in  the  full  vigor  of  buoyant  manhood,  Carter 
perceived  what  he  had  feared  would  happen — an  affection 
springing  up  between  Carroll  and  Nora ;  but  he  would  do 
nothing  just  then  to  prevent  it ;  he  preferred  to  wait,  feeling 
that  before  the  affair  would  reach  its  climax,  a  scheme  which 
he  had  already  devised  would  prove  an  effectual  bar.  Acci- 
dent favored  him.  The  Fenian  rising  was  in  agitation,  and 
Carroll,  of  the  very  temperament  to  be  allured  into  the  move- 
ment, participated  with  heart  and  soul  in  all  its  measures. 
Then  was  Carter's  time.  He  was  the  idol  of  the  impulsive 


FATHER  VCONNORB  TALK  4aj 

young  fellow — to  him  Carroll  confided  everything  ;  and  to 
Mortimer  now,  believing  that  the  latter  was  as  devoted  an  ad- 
herent of  the  cause  as  he  was  himself,  he  repeated  all  that  he 
knew  of  the  secrets  of  the  organization.  It  was  easy  then  for 
Carter  to  connive  at  Carroll's  arrest  and  conviction,  and  the 
young  man  was  transported  to  Australia,  and  the  ancient 
O'Donoghue  homestead,  with  its  broad,  beautiful  lands,  encum- 
bered by  debt,  owing  to  the  expense  of  Carroll's  trial,  and 
other  causes,  passed  from  possession  of  its  heirs,  and  was  put 
into  the  market  to  be  sold. 

"  Carter  exulted  that  so  much  was  accomplished  ;  then, 
providing  a  moderately  comfortable,  but  humble,  home  for  the 
two  girls,  he  proposed  for  the  hand  of  Nora  McCarthy ;  that 
was  the  first  revelation  which  his  ward  had  of  his  true  charac- 
ter ;  he  was  scorned,  and  the  favor  with  which  he  had  been 
regarded  was  changed  to  indignation  and  contempt. 

"  Then  his  passion  for  revenge  became  active.  He  threat- 
ened them  with  eviction  from  the  very  shelter  which,  with 
pretended  kindness,  he  had  provided,  unless  Miss  McCarthy 
consented  :  he  was  again  spurned,  and  the  two  unprotected 
girls  took  refuge  in  the  home  of  their  life-long  friend,  the 
pastor  of  the  village.  All  of  Carter's  transactions,  feigning  to 
be  one  in  heart  with  the  Fenians,  and  cloaking  the  free  access 
which  he  was  permitted  to  Tralee  garrison  under  the  pretense 
of  securing  information  for  the  adherents  of  the  Irish  cause, 
were  fully  understood  by  poor  Rick  of  the  Hills  ;  his  wander- 
ing life  enabled  him  to  learn  various  items  of  news,  and  he 
was  shrewd  enough  to  fathom  more  of  Carter's  secrets  than 
the  latter  desired  him  to  do.  Carter's  sincerity  was  beginning 
to  be  doubted  by  others  also  ;  various  reports  were  circulated 
about  him,  but  with  all  that,  he  had  sufficient  powers  of  arti- 
fice to  maintain,  not  alone  his  reputable  standing,  but  the  un- 
reserved confidence  of  those  partisans  of  the  Irish  cause  who 
were  most  influential  in  his  neighborhood.  He  had  turned 
secret  informer  for  the  sake  of  the  reward. 

"  Carroll  O'Donoghue  escaped  from  Australia  and  returned 


4S4  CARROLL  VDONOQHUK 

safely  to  Ireland.  He  was  in  secret  quarters  waiting  an  op- 
portunity  to  pay  a  stealthy  visit  to  his  sister  and  his  affianced. 
Rick  knew  of  his  arrival,  though  Carter  did  not,  and  Rick  had 
learned,  through  unguarded  hints  dropped  by  Carter,  that  in- 
formation had  been  supplied  to  the  authorities  which  would 
bring  a  military  force  to  the  very  spot  where  Carroll  was  se- 
creted in  the  bosom  of  a  devoted  band.  Rick  warned  the  un- 
suspecting fellows,  without  disclosing  his  own  suspicion  that 
it  was  Carter  who  had  supplied  the  information — not  that  he 
did  it  to  save  the  traitor,  but  lest  the  latter,  discovering  at 
any  time  that  Rick  had  been  in  any  instance  untrue  to  him, 
might  take  the  revenge  he  never  ceased  to  threaten.  The 
military  force,  with  Captain  Dennier  at  its  head,  marched  to 
the  spot  to  which  they  were  ordered,  only  to  find  all  flown 
whom  they  had  expected  to  capture.  On  their  return  they 
lost  themselves  in  the  wild  way  by  which  they  had  to  journey. 
Rick  of  the  Hills  saw  them,  and  concealed  himself,  till,  divin- 
ing from  th?ir  manner  that  they  had  lost  their  way,  he 
was  impelled,  by  the  hope  of  perhaps  learning  something 
which  might  benefit  Carroll  O'Donoghue,  to  appear  among 
them  as  a  wild  fellow  who  had  little  or  no  sense.  He  did 
so,  and  acted  as  guide  for  the  party  back  to  the  garrison, 
where  he  met,  to  his  own  surprise,  and  to  Carter's  discom- 
fiture, Mortimer  Carter,  and  the  latter  learned  from  Rick 
of  Carroll's  presence  in  Ireland.  His  scheming  now  became 
more  vigorous  and  deadly.  He  set  every  faculty  to  work  to 
gain  information  which  should  insure  young  O'Donoghue's 
recapture  ;  and  he  succeeded  so  far  as  even  to  make  the 
miserable  Rick  become  at  last  the  betrayer  of  Carroll — the 
latter  was  arrested  just  without  the  house  which  had  been  the 
shelter  of  his  sister  and  his  affianced.  But  the  law  was  too 
slow  for  the  traitor  Carter— he  would  have  O'Donoghue  out 
of  the  way  quickly  ;  and  he  planned  an  escape  for  the  pris 
oner,  then  gave  information  to  the  authorities  which  should 
cost  Carroll  his  life,  either  by  a  shot  from  one  of  the  armed 
guards,  or  a  speedier  conviction  when  this  attempt  to  escape 


FATHER  VCONNOR8  TALK  42J 

should  be  brought  forward  on  the  trial  as  evidence  against  the 
prisoner.  Carter  was  also  determined  to  press  his  suit  with 
Nora  McCarthy  in  a  way  which  he  fancied  must  compel  her 
to  accept  him.  He  took  Rick  more  into  his  confidence,  and 
revealed  to  him  for  the  first  time  all  his  mad  passion  for  the 
beautiful  girl  ;  degraded  as  poor  Sullivan  was,  he  had  yet 
sufficient  manhood  to  express  to  Carter's  face  his  indignation 
at  the  thought  of  such  an  alliance  ;  but  what  was  his  horror 
and  d'smay  when  he  found  it  proposed  to  him  that  he  should 
claim  this  girl  as  his  daughter !  sufficient  was  known  to 
Father  Meagher  to  prove  his  claim,  and  then,  to  Rick's  greater 
horror,  he  stated  how  that  it  was  in  view  of  this  very  pro- 
ject he,  Carter,  had  concealed  for  all  these  years  Cathleen  Sul- 
livan from  her  father.  From  the  moment  that  he  had  learned 
of  Rick's  surrender  of  little  Marie  to  the  O'Donoghues,  and 
knew  what  advantages  would  be  hers,  he  thought  how,  should 
she,  when  of  marriageable  age,  refuse  his  hand,  he  could 
humble  her  by  producing  Rick  as  her  father — that  was  the 
plan  by  which  he  had  intended  to  frustrate  her  marriage  with 
Carroll  O'Donoghue  ;  and  should  it  be  insufficient  to  prevent 
it,  at  least  it  would  cover  her  with  shame.  For  the  purpose 
of  carrying  out  his  cruel  scheme  he  had  continued  to  hide 
Cathleen  Sullivan  from  her  father  ;  so  doing  gave  him  a 
power  which  always  kept  Rick  his  unresisting  tool.  And 
Rick  was  forced  to  consent.  But  Carter  did  not  bargain  for 
the  issue.  He  had  not  correctly  estimated  Nora  McCarthy's 
noble  character.  He  had  supposed  that  she  would  shrink 
from  the  horror  and  the  shame  of  being  this  vagabond-beg- 
gar's daughter,  and  he  had  told  Rick  to  place  before  her  two 
alternatives — either  to  become  Carter's  wife,  with  the  world 
remaining  in  ignorance  of  her  parentage,  or  to  refuse  to  do 
so,  and  be  published  as  the  daughter  of  Rick  of  the  Hills. 
But  Sullivan,  dumbfounded  at  the  noble  manner  in  which  she 
received  his  revelation,  could  not  speak  to  her  as  Carter  had 
bade  him  do — he  could  only  endeavor  to  act  his  wretched 
part  as  best  he  might.  Nora  McCarthy,  believing  herself  to 


4a6 


CARROLL  &DONOGHUB. 


be  Rick's  child,  yielded  all  to  go  with  him — home,  friend^ 
the  lover  to  whom  she  was  affianced, — and  her  noble  devotion 
to  the  unhappy  wretch,  her  efforts  to  reclaim  him,  her  pure, 
angelic  character,  touched  and  won  his  heart ;  he  could  no 
longer  endure  her  sacrifice,  and  he  came  to  me  and  told  this 
story.  Previously  accident  had  given  me  information  of  a 
young  woman,  named  Cathleen,  whom  Carter  had  brought 
when  a  baby  to  a  widow  living  in  the  north  of  Ireland,  and 
to  whom  he  paid  regular  sums  for  the  child's  care.  He  claimed 
to  be  the  little  one's  uncle,  and  he  made  occasional  visits  to 
see  her.  I  had  no  hesitation  in  pronouncing  her  to  be  Sulli- 
van's abducted  child,  and  I  saw  the  poor,  unhappy  father  de- 
part for  the  place  of  her  abode. 

"  I  have  finished,  my  lord,  and  I  await  your  answer." 

He  stood  with  folded  arms,  and  head  slightly  bent  forward, 
the  flush  on  his  cheeks  deepened  to  a  vivid  glow.  Lord 
Heathcote  at  last  removed  his  hand,  and  raised  his  head  ;  was 
that  the  stern,  cold  face  which  had  dropped  to  its  hidden  po- 
sition at  the  beginning  of  the  tale — that  white,  aged  looking 
countenance  ?  every  line  had  been  brought  forth  with  startling 
distinctness,  every  feature  betrayed  an  agony  upon  which  it 
was  painful  to  look.  He  rose  from  his  chair,  and  tottered  to 
the  priest,  saying,  in  so  cracked  a  voice  that  it  might  have  be- 
longed to  eighty,  rather  than  the  fifty  years  he  was  ; 

"  This  cruelly  injured  husband  of  Marie — this  Walter 
Berkeley — did  he  who  unfolded  to  you  this  tale  tell  you  who 
he  was  ? " 

The  priest  bowed  low,  and  responded  ;  "  He  did,  my  lord. 
Carter  had  unguardedly  on  one  occasion  imparted  to  him 
that  knowledge.  You,  my  lord,  are  the  Walter  Berkeley  of 
my  tale." 

" Oh,  God!" 

The  nobleman  flung  his  hand  wildly  to  his  forehead,  then, 
as  if  seized  by  some  sudden  convulsion,  he  clutched  frantic- 
ally at  the  air  for  a  moment,  and  Father  O'Connor,  alarmed, 
hastened  to  support  him. 


FATHER  Gf CONNOR B  TALR  4,7 

*  Thank  you  ;  I  am  better,"  he  said,  when  he  had  rallied  ; 
and  he  stiove  to  assume  the  wonted  coldness  of  his  voice,  as 
he  released  himself  from  the  gentle  hold.  "  But  this  is  an 
idle  tale,"  he  continued,  quickly  ;  "  what  proofs  have  you  to 
sustain  Marie  Dougherty's  innocence  of  all  that  has  been  im- 
puted to  her — what  proofs  to  show  that  Sullivan's  story  is  not 
a  concoction  to  shield  himself  ? " 

"  None,  my  lord,  beyond  what  I  have  told  you — she  who 
could  prove  its  truth  has  long  since  been  accorded  justice  in 
Heaven." 

"  Do  you  believe  it — did  this  mysterious  tale  carry  convic- 
tion to  your  heart  ? "  and  the  nobleman  seemed  to  await  th« 
answer  in  trembling  expectation. 

"  It  did,  my  lord  ;  full  and  entire  !  " 

Lord  Heathcote  tottered  to  his  chair,  and  sunk  into  it  The 
perspiration  stood  in  beads  upon  his  face,  and  his  breath  was 
labored.  "  You  tell  me,"  he  said,  speaking  with  difficulty, 
"  that  the  daughter  of  this  Marie  Dougherty  grew  to  be  the 
image  of  her  mother — is  she  aught  like  this  ? " 

He  pulled  from  his  bosom  a  golden  case,  set  round  with 
pearls  ;  touching  the  spring,  it  opened  and  revealed  the 
counterpart  of  Nora  McCarthy.  The  likeness  was  so  exact 
and  so  vivid  that  the  priest  started,  and  his  manner, 
more  even  than  his  words,  expressed  the  resemblance  which 
the  picture  bore  to  its  living  copy.  He  closed  the  case  and 
returned  it  to  his  breast,  then,  leaning  forward  until  his 
labored  breath  seemed  to  fan  his  listener's  face,  he  said  : 

"  The  twin  son  of  this  Marie  Dougherty  whom  Carter  ab- 
ducted— where  is  he  now — what  is  he  doing  ?" 

"  Living  obscurely  among  the  poor  of  Ireland,  with  no  de- 
sire save  to  do  what  little  good  he  can,  and  remain  un- 
known to  the  world." 

"  Is  he  known  to  you  ?  "  The  question  was  put  in  a  pain- 
fully  eager  way. 

"He  is,  my  lord." 

Lord  Heathcote  leaned  back  and  closed  his  eyes  ;  but  Uv 


4ag  CARROLL  VLONOGHUK 

working  of  his  mouth  betrayed  how  little  diminished  was  hw 
inward  agitation.  After  a  few  minutes  he  looked  up,  and  said 
with  the  first  natural  tone  of  voice  he  had  used  since  the  con- 
clusion of  the  startling  tale  : 

"  You  have  admitted  that  you  know  this  son  of  Marie 
Dougherty  whom  Carter  is  said  to  have  abducted — do  you 
also  know  his  twin  brother,  whom  Berkeley  was  reported  to 
-have  carried  to  England  ?  did  no  suspicion  ever  enter  the 
mind  of  Sullivan — did  he  never  gain  from  Carter  any  infor- 
mation which  might  lead  him  to  surmise  the  identity  of  this 
son  ?  " 

"  Never,  my  lord,  to  my  knowledge — I  do  not  know  the 
young  man." 

"  But  this  daughter — this  counterpart  of  her  injured  mothei 
— you  know  her  ? " 

"  I  do,  my  lord,  well." 

"  And  did  you  not,  when  this  strange  story  was  told  you, 
immediately  unfold  it  to  this  sister  and  brother,  or  did  you 
not  hint  at  portions  of  it  which  might  work  upon  their 
minds  ?  " 

M  No,  my  lord  ;  my  first  and  only  impulse  was  to  come 
to  you.  All  that  I  have  told  you  is  buried  in  my  own 
breast." 

A  look  of  satisfaction  crossed  Lord  Heathcote's  features, 
and  he  said  in  a  still  more  natural  tone :  "  Will  you  bind 
yourself  to  follow  some  instructions  I  desire  to  give  you  ?  " 

"  I  shall  be  happy  to  do  so,  my  lord,  if  they  conflict  with  no 
duty." 

"They  will  not.  I  would  have  you  maintain  profound 
secrecy  about  all  that  you  have  told  me,  and  I  would  have 
you  bring  to  me,  here  in  the  castle,  this  girl,  Nora  McCarthy — 
I  would  see  her  without  having  anything  of  this  interview 
disclosed  to  her.  Can  you  do  this  ?  " 

A  shade  passed  over  the  priest's  face.  "  I  do  not  know,  my 
lord ;  but  I  can  try,  and  should  I  fail  I  shall  acquaint  you* 
lordship." 


FATHER  V CONNOR 8  TALK  42g 

Lord  Heathcote  bowed  his  assent,  then  touched  the  hand- 
bell at  his  side,  and  waving  an  adieu  to  Father  O'Connor  as 
the  attendant  entered  the  room,  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and 
dosed  his  eyea. 


CHAPTER  Lit 

THl    WORK   OF    A   SPY. 

FATHER  O'CONNOR,  the  prey  of  emotions  as  wild  and  varied 
u  much  of  the  scenery  through  which  he  passed  on  his  return 
journey,  hastened  back  to  Tralee.  There  he  found,  to  his 
relief,  Nora  once  more  in  the  bosom  of  her  friends — Clare  and 
she  both  inmates  of  genial  Mrs.  Murphy's  home,  Father 
Meagher  coming  up  from  Dhrommacohol  as  often  as  the  duties 
of  his  pastoral  charge  would  permit,  and  Dennier,  in  his 
courteous,  kindly  way  dropping  in  as  frequently  as  tke  laws  of 
etiquette  allowed,  but  far  too  seldom  to  satisfy  the  desire  of  his 
own  impetuous  heart  ;  and  he  found  also  Tighe  a  Vohr  once 
more  installed  as  Dennier's  valet ;  but  he  found  all  too  sad  at 
the  thought  of  Carroll's  approaching  doom  to  wear  even 
the  semblance  of  a  smile,  and  his  own  emotions,  roused  into 
wildest  being  by  the  scene  through  which  he  had  so  lately 
passed,  were  also  subdued  and  saddened  by  the  near  approach 
of  that  dreadful  end.  He  had  little  time,  however,  to  give  to 
deliberations  other  than  those  required  for  the  delicate  mission 
intrusted  to  him  by  Lord  Heathcote,  and  he  seized  the  first 
opportunity  of  requesting  from  Nora  a  private  interview. 

She  bad  become  anxious  about  Rick,  and  having  received 
no  word  from  him,  her  first  thought  was  that  Father  O'Connor 
had  perhaps  some  alarming  intelligence  to  communicate. 

"  No,"  the  priest  said  in  answer  to  her  fears  when  they  were 
alone,  "  you  have  no  cause  for  alarm  ;  but  perhaps  you  will 
wonder  when  I  ask  you  to  come  immediately  with  me  to 
Dublia." 

14  To  Dublin— why  ?  *  she  could  hardly  speak  from  surprise. 

*  I  cannot  tell  you,  Nora — I  have  only  to  ask  you  to  sub- 
(430) 


TEE  WORK  OF  A  SPY.  43, 

mil  blindly  to  my  directions  in  this  matter — I  have  only  to 
say  that  I  think  it  is  well  for  you  to  go." 

"  Ah  !  I  understand,"  she  said  quietly ;  "poor  Rick " — and 
then  she  stopped  and  corrected  herself — "  my  father  is  there 
ill ;  he  has  acquainted  you  of  it,  but  he  would  not  let  me 
know,  lest  it  should  induce  me  to  make  some  sacrifice,  and  he 
has  written  to  you  not  to  tell  me  ;  but  you  think  it  is  my  duty 
to  know  and  to  go  to  him.  Is  not  that  it  ?  " 

"  No,  Nora  ;  that  is  not  it ;  but  this  journey,  if  you  will 
undertake  it,  may  go  far  to  right  a  wrong  of  the  past,  and  to 
restore  a  reputation  which  has  been  foully  defamed." 

"  Carroll,"  she  said, — "  it  will  take  me  from  him." 

"  Only  for  a  few  days,  and  as  they  tell  me  all  of  you  have 
been  refused  access  to  him  for  the  present,  your  absence  can 
hardly  make  much  difference." 

"  I  shall  go,"  she  said  quietly.     "  How  soon  shall  we  start  ?  " 

"  Can  you  be  ready  this  evening  ?  " 

She  gave  a  brief  assent. 

They  turned  away  to  join  Clare,  and  at  that  instant  the 
knocker  on  Mrs.  Murphy's  hall  door  sounded.  It  was  Den- 
nier,  with  the  announcement  that  he  was  called  to  Dublin  by  a 
most  importunate  letter  from  Lord  Heathcote,  and  that  he 
would  be  obliged  to  start  for  the  capital  that  very  evening. 

"  Miss  McCarthy  and  I  are  also  going,"  said  Father  O'Con- 
nor ;  "  with  your  kind  permission,  we  would  prefer  to  travel  in 
your  company." 

It  was  the  first  announcement  of  Nora's  intended  journey, 
and  Clare  became  frightened.  "  Going  to  Dublin  !  "  she  ie- 
peated  in  a  dazed  way  !  "  going  to  leave  Carroll  and  to  leave 
me — what  does  it  mean  ! " 

Father  O'Connor  took  her  aside,  in  his  own  quiet,  gentle 
way  soothing  her  and  explaining — without,  however  revealing 
aught  that  he  was  told  to  conceal, — why  it  was  not  practicable 
to  grant  her  request  to  accompany  Nora.  She  seemed  satis- 
fied, determining  to  return  at  once  to  Dhrommacohol,  and 
there  remain  until  Nora  came  back  ;  and  when  the  two  gen- 


43,  CARROLL  VDONOQHUR. 

ticmen,  each  actuated  by  the  thought  of  how  to  provide  an 
escort  for  her  in  the  short  time  that  remained  before  the  be- 
ginning of  their  own  journey,  looked  blankly  at  each  other, 
•he  herself  proposed  that  Tighe  should  accompany  her.  Den- 
nier  gladly  assented,  willingly  submitting  to  the  inconvenience 
of  providing  another  servant  during  his  stay  in  Dublin.  Hasty 
preparations  for  the  journeys  began,  and  then  all  accompanied 
Clare  to  see  her  first  upon  her  way.  The  little  party  were  too 
absorbed  in  themselves  to  note  how  their  steps  were  dogged 
from  the  moment  of  their  departure  from  Mrs.  Murphy's  until 
their  arrival  at  the  place  where  Clare  and  Tighe  and  Shaun 
were  to  take  the  mail-car  for  Dhrommacohol.  There  the  spy, 
a  dark-browed,  heavy-looking  man,  waiting  only  to  see  the 
little  party  standing  together  as  if  all  were  about  to  journey 
the  same  way,  turned  about,  and  hurrying  into  a  side  street, 
entered  a  place  which  seemed  to  comprise  all  the  character- 
istics of  a  shebeen.  There,  lounging  against  the  counter,  was 
a  man  as  villainous  looking. 

"  Good  day  to  you,  Jack,"  said  the  new-comer ;  "  faith 
you're  in  luck's  way,  for  I  have  Carther's  money  to  trate  you 
wid  ;  come,  old  fellow  " — accompanying  his  last  words  by  a 
hearty  slap  on  Jack's  stalwart  shoulders, — "  and  we'll  have  a 
pint  of  mulled  porter  together." 

With  every  evidence  of  delight,  he  to  whom  the  invitation 
was  given  accepted  it,  and  the  two  repaired  to  an  inner  room, 
which  was  filled  up  with  round  tables  and  wooden  chairs. 

"  So  things  are  progressing,  Thade,"  said  he  who  had  been 
addressed  as  Jack,  "  between  yoursel'  and  Carter  ?  " 

"  Faith,  they  couldn't  be  foiner — I  have  nothin'  to  throuble 
me  moind  wid  but  watchin'  Rick  o'  the  Hills  an'  his  young 
lady  daughther,  an*  jist  repoortin'  all  their  movemints  to  ould 
Carther,  an'  he  grases  me  fist  for  it  ivery  toime.  First,  whin 
the  pair  lived  at  Mrs.  Murphy's,  it  seems  he  didn't  have  any 
watch  on  thim,  but  jist  as  they  were  lavin'  there  he  gev  me 
the  job.  Well,  I  thracked  thim  closely.  They  wint  from 
Mrs.  Murphy's  to  a  poor  place  intoirely,  an'  I  used  to  see  UM 


THE  WORK  OF  A  SPY.  4J3 

young  lady— it'd  be  a  sin  to  call  her  anything  else,  even  if  she 
is  Rick's  daughther,  be  rayson  o'  her  beauty, — goin'  out  as  if 
it  moight  be  on  business,  an'  goin'  out  o'  her  way  to  pass  the 
jail ;  well,  I  tould  ould  Carther  the  whole  o'  it,  an*  I  don't 
know  what  happened,  or  what  was  betune  thim,  but  what  do 
you  think  o'  this,  Jack  ?  "— Thade's  voice  descended  to  a  very 
low  whisper,  and  his  head  leaned  forward  till  it  almost  touched 
that  of  his  listener —  "  the  ould  sinner  planned  to  carry  her 
off  ;  to  take  her  be  stealth  away  from  her  father.  He  had 
mesel',  an*  Shaun  Hurley,  and  Jimmy  Carberry,  all  ingaged, 
an'  it  was  to  be  the  most  parfect  abduction  at  all.  He'd  have 
no  difficulty  in  the  world  in  gettin'  into  the  house,  for  he  was 
already  purvided  wid  a  skeleton  kay  to  open  the  hall  dure, 
an'  we  were  to  folly  him  up  to  Rick's  apartmints,  an' 
he  was  to  rap  for  admission,  an'  invint  some  sthory  that'd 
make  Rick  open  to  us,  whin  we  were  to  fall  on  Rick  an'  over- 
power him,  an'  thin  secure  the  young  lady.  A  carriage  was 
to  be  in  waitin',  an'  we  were  all  to  dhrive  off  to  a  distant  part 
intoirely.  Well,  that  was  all  fixed,  Jack,  for  the  noight  afther 
Mr.  O'Donoghue's  sintince  was  passed,  an'  we  were  in  readi- 
ness, whin,  what  did  I  see  that  viry  mornin'  but  Rick,  an'  his 
daughther,  an'  Mrs.  Murphy,  all  goin'  to  Mrs.  Murphy's 
house,  an'  I  found  out  that  they  had  lift  where  they  lived, 
intoirely.  Whin  I  tould  that  to  ould  Carther  he  was  loike  a 
ragin'  madman  ;  you  see  he  was  afeered  to  folly  up  his  scheme 
in  Mrs.  Murphy's  house,  bein'  a  different  place  intoirely,  an* 
moreover,  Mrs.  Murphy  havin'  a  husband,  an'  two  young  min 
o'  sons  that  it  moightn't  be  well  to  encounther.  So  he  jist 
had  to  let  the  matther  dhrop  until  he  could  invint  another 
plan.  He  tould  me,  howiver,  to  continue  the  watch,  an'  I 
did,  an'  whin  I  repoorted  how  the  young  lady  began  to  go 
out  agin  alone,  he  was  hopm'  that  she'd  go  out  some  evenin' 
alone  ;  and  I  had  me  ordhers,  me  an'  Shaun  Hurley,  who  was 
to  be  always  ready  wid  a  carriage  widin  hearin'  o'  me 
whistle.  Me  ordhers  were  to  rush  up  to  her,  an'  hould  her 
in  such  a  way  that  she  couldn't  scream  while  I  whistled  for 


434  CARROLL  VUUJXVVHUK 

Shaun,  an'  the  pair  o'  us  were  to  hustle  her  into  the  carriage 
But  that  too  didn't  happen,  Jack,  for  the  rayson  that  she 
niver  wint  out  afther  dark,  an'  there  was  no  chance  o'  kid- 
nappin'  her  in  the  middle  o'  the  open  sthrate  in  dayloight 
Well,  now  she's  off  to-day  wid  some  o'  her  frinds  for  Dhrom- 
macohol,  an'  how  ould  Carther  will  take  that  I'm  powerliss  to 
•ay." 

"And  Rick  of  the  Hills  "—asked  Jack,— "did  he  go  to 
Dhrommacohol  to-day  too  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  see  him  ;  he's  away  somewhere,  for  I  haven't  laid 
eyes  on  him  since  the  mornin'  he  wint  wid  his  daughther  to 
Mrs.  Murphy's — roight  afther  that  I  saw  him  lave  the  house, 
but  as  he  didn't  have  the  young  lady  wid  him,  I  didn't  moind 
follying  him,  to  me  own  loss,  for  it's  Carther  that's  anxious  to 
know  where  Rick  is — he  offered  to  double  what  he  gives  me 
if  I'd  foind  out  for  him,  an*  I've  been  strainin'  me  eyes  wher- 
iver  I'd  be,  but  it's  no  use  ;  Rick  isn't  in  Tralee.  Come,  drink 
man,  an*  we'll  have  another  pint  afore  I  go  to  give  me  re- 
poort  to  Carther." 

The  second  pint  was  ordered,  and  over  its  inspiriting  con- 
tents the  boon  friends  grew  more  genial  and  more  communi- 
cative. 

"  It  was  a  great  surprise,"  said  he  who  had  already  imparted 
so  much  information,  "  whin  Carther  turned  informer  in  the 
open  coort — it  med  the  greatest  sthir  that  was  med  in  Tralee 
for  many  a  day." 

"  Well  then,"  answered  Jack,  "  it's  past  my  understanding 
why  it  should  ;  Carter  was  suspected  all  along  of  giving  infor- 
mation to  the  government — sure  how  could  he  make  the 
money  he  has,  if  it  wasn't  for  that  ? " 

"  True  for  you,"  was  -he  response  ;  "  but  somehow,  Carter 
had  a  way  wid  him  that  med  some  payple  thrust  him  roight 
in  the  face  o'  the  decate  he  moight  be  playin'  at  that  minit 
You  moind,  Jack,  the  toime  he  was  robbed  in  his  room  o'  a 
curtain  paper — the  toime  that  he  said  two  min  rushed  in  an' 
med  him  insinsible,  an'  thin  sarched  him  till  they  found  the 
they  wanted  ? " 


THE  WORK  OF  A  SPT.  4^5 

*  I  do,"  answered  Jack. 

"Well,  you  moind  how  he  laid  Tighe  a  Vohr  down  for 
that — I  heerd  him  say  that  in  me  own  prisince>  an'  he  had 
•throng  thoughts  o'  takin'  the  law  an  Tighe  ;  but  he  found  he 
couldn't,  for  he  hadn't  one  proof  to  bring  forward.  He'd  have 
to  shwear  to  the  man  who  rushed  at  him,  an'  the  clarest  case 
he'd  be  able  to  make  o*  it  would  be  that  Tighe  had  hired  the 
parties  to  rob  him  ;  an'  even  that  same  he  wouldn't  be  able  to 
prove — so  he  had  to  dhrop  it.  An'  it  was  said  in  McGinnis's 
the  other  noight " — again  the  voice  dropped  to  a  very  low 
whisper — "  that  Carther  wouldn't  have  gone  on  the  witness 
shtand  himsel'  only  for  the  loss  o'  the  paper  he  was  robbed 
*v, — he  was  afeered  if  that  tistimony  was  wantin'  he'd  lose  the 
money  that  he  gets  for  his  informin'." 

Jack  nodded  his  head  in  knowing  corroboration  of  the 
statement,  and  both  worthies,  having  exhausted  their  budget 
of  contraband  news,  and  drained  the  last  of  their  mulled 
porter,  rose  to  depart.  He  who  had  been  addressed  as  Thade 
wended  his  way  to  Carter's  lodgings. 

That  gentleman  was  only  then  breakfasting  ;  a  late  debauch 
— the  state  of  his  conscience,  and  the  failure  of  his  plans 
goaded  him  to  deep  potations — keeping  him  in  bed  till  long 
past  noon.  He  ordered  Thade  to  be  admitted,  and  without 
relinquishing  his  efforts  to  masticate  the  grilled  bone  before 
him,  he  said  with  his  mouth  full  : 

"  Well,  Thade,  what's  the  news  now  ?  " 

"  The  divil  a  liss  than  Miss  Sullivan  is  off  to  Dhrommaco- 
hol  wid  Miss  O'Donoghue,  an'  that  Englishman  that  goes  to 
Mrs.  Murphy's  so  much  lately,  an'  a  young  praste,  an'  Tighe  a 
Vohr." 

Carter  dropped  his  bone,  and  ceased  to  masticate. 
"  When  ? "  he  asked. 

"  They  wint  in  the  last  mail-car  that  lift." 

"And  Rick  of  the  Hills— where  was  he?"  Cartel's  voice 
had  become  agitated. 

14  The  divil  a  know  I  know — sure  there's  nayther  hide  not 
hair  o'  him  to  be  had  in  Tralee." 


CARROLL  VDONOQHUTS. 

Carter  rose — his  agitation  would  find  its  old  vent — he  must 
pace  the  room,  and  he  did  so,  stopping  after  intervals  to  rub 
his  face,  as  if  that  action  might  help  to  clear  his  intricate 
thoughts.  His  visitor  watched  with  a  look  expressive  of  his 
own  shrewd  conclusions.  Carter  paused  at  length.  "Will 
you  run  down  to  Dhrommacohol,  Thade,  and  keep  the  same 
watch  there  that  you  did  here  ?  you  know  the  place  well,  and 
it  will  not  be  difficult  for  you  to  act  the  spy  on  Miss  Sulli- 
van's movements,  and  report  to  me  by  letter  ;  you  are  able  to 
write,  I  believe  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  can  write,  Mr.  Carther,  aisy  enough — it's  only  the 
spellin'  that  bothers  me  ;  but  it'd  be  unconvanient  for  me  to 
lave  Tralee  now,  onless  you'd  make  it  worth  me  while." 

"  Certainly,  Thade,  I'll  do  that  and  welcome ;  you  shall 
have  no  cause  to  complain — only  serve  me  well." 

"  Never  fear,  Mr.  Carther — I'll  sarve  ye  to  the  bist  o'  me 
powers  !  "  and  having  received  from  Carter  the  stipend  which 
was  always  the  reward  of  his  report,  and  promising  to  depart 
that  very  evening  for  Dhrommacohol,  Thade  took  his  leave. 

Once  more  the  traitor  began  his  agitated  stride  of  the  room, 
and  this  time  all  his  fiendish  emotions  were  suffered  to  appeal 
in  his  bloated  countenance — rage,  hate,  jealousy  struggled  to- 
gether in  his  breast,  and  swept  by  turns  over  a  face  in  which 
the  stamp  of  a  guilty  soul  had  long  been  set  "  Rick  has  at 
last  discovered  upon  me  !"  he  said,  as  he  walked  ;  "it  must 
be  so,  or  he  would  be  seen  somewhere  ;  and  that  is  why  Nora 
has  returned  to  Dhrommacohol.  They  all  know  the  story 
now,  and  what  will  become  of  me — what,  oh  what,  if  any  of 
them  should  take  steps  to  acquaint  Lord  Heathcote  ?  Pshaw ! 
what  a  fool  I  am  !  there  is  no  proof  to  fasten  the  guilt  upon 
me,  but  there  is  every  proof  to  place  it  on  Rick  ;  I  shall  not 
fear."  He  straightened  himself  and  walked  with  a  firmer  step. 
"  I  have  wealth,  and  when  I  receive  the  amount  which  I  ex- 
pect for  having  turned  witness  against  Carroll  O'Donoghue,  I 
shall  have  enough  to  purchase  the  O'Donoghue  estate,  and 
when  Carroll  is  hung  i  may  nnd  means  to  ooiam  possession 


THE  WORK  OF  A  SPY.  437 

of  Nora,  If  I  do  not,  I  shall  at  least  gall  them  all  by  my 
ownership  of  the  O'Donoghue  property,  even  though  I  can- 
not make  of  it  a  home.  It  was  a  desperate  stroke,"  he  con- 
tinued, folding  his  arms  and  walking  with  slower  gait,  "to 
turn  open  informer  in  the  court,  but  the  loss  of  the  paper  I 
had  obtained  from  Carroll  left  me  no  other  alternative — the 
case  was  to  be  closed  that  day,  and  the  testimony  did  not 
seem  to  be  sufficient  to  fully  convict  him ;  did  I  not  go  on 
the  stand  I  should  have  been  despoiled,  not  alone  of  the 
O'Donoghue  homestead,  but  of  my  revenge — the  execution 
of  Carroll.  Beside,  there  was  nothing  more  to  be  gained  by 
pretending  to  be  true  to  the  prisoner,  and  by  informing  thus 
openly  I  could  crush  both  him  and  his  affianced," — speaking 
with  bitter  mockery — "  Nora  Sullivan,  or  Marie  Berkeley." 

He  strode  to  the  closet  and  helped  himself  bountifully  to 
the  contents  of  one  of  the  bottles  on  the  shelf ;  then,  ap- 
parently calmed  and  fortified,  he  returned  to  the  table,  and 
prepared  to  resume  operations  on  his  grilled  bone. 

"  No,"  he  said,  suspending  his  knife  and  fork  in  the  air  for 
a  moment,  "  I  am  safe — and  I  shall  remain  quietly  wait- 
ing Carroll's  hanging,  and  Thade's  reports  from  Dhrommaco- 
hol,  and  then,  when  I  have  purchased  the  O'Donoghue  estate, 
I  shall  plan  for  other  successes." 

He  bent  to  his  breakfast  with  renewed  ardor,  compensating 
by  his  animal  gratification  for  all  his  recent  discomfiture  a»d 
anxiety. 


CHAPTER  Lilt 

FATHER   AND   SON. 

THE  journey  to  Dublin  was  made  with  all  the  speed  oi 
moderate  steam  travel,  but  the  little  party,  each  of  whom  was 
earnestly  wrapped  in  his  or  her  anxious  and  wandering  thoughts, 
could  have  wished  that  the  speed  was  increased — Nora,  be- 
cause of  the  fears  of  being  delayed  from  Carroll ;  Father 
O'Connor,  from  a  certain  anxiety  to  know  what  would  result 
from  the  journey  ;  and  Dennier,  owing  to  a  wild  desire  to 
learn  at  once  on  what  business  Lord  Heathcote  wished  to  see 
him  ;  he  questioned  not  how  his  lordship  knew  the  very  ad- 
dress to  which  to  send  his  summons — he  deemed  it  the  result 
of  accident ;  and  when  he  looked  at  his  two  companions, 
reading  with  pain  the  care  and  grief  marked  in  their  counte- 
nances, he  fancied  he  knew  the  cause  of  their  mysterious 
journey  to  Dublin — that  it  was  to  beg  Lord  Heathcote  to 
use  his  influence  for  some  mitigation  of  the  sentence  of  the 
beloved  prisoner ;  yes,  he  was  sure  that  such  was  the  object 
— the  silence  of  both  regarding  the  cause  of  their  journey, 
the  refusal  to  permit  Clare  to  accompany  them,  all  tended  to 
prove  the  truth  of  his  conjecture,  and  he  almost  sickened  as 
he  thought  how  worse  than  useless  would  be  their  effort 
Having  arrived  at  the  capital,  they  repaired  to  one  of  the 
hotels  for  refreshment  and  a  brief  rest,  in  order  that  pale, 
tired  Nora  might  be  somewhat  recruited.  The  afternoon  wai 
far  advanced,  but  Father  O'Connor  would  make  the  effort  to 
ice  Lord  Heathcote,  unseemly  as  might  be  the  hour. 

44  You  are  not  too  fatigued  to  make  a  visit  with  me  ? "  he 
•aid  kindly  to  Nora. 

"  No, — my  anxiety  lends  me  strength  ;  but  surely  you  caa 
tell  me  now  where  we  are  going." 
(438) 


FATHER  AND  802T.  ^g 

The  priest  flushed  slightly.  "  Pardon  me,  Nora,  if  even 
yet  I  must  refuse  to  gratify  you  ;  it  seems  cruel  to  keep  you 
in  such  suspense,  but  I  am  bound — I  have  given  my  word,  and 
I  cannot  break  it ;  and  this  affair,  so  mysterious  and  harrowing 
to  you,  is  equally  so  to  me." 

There  was  such  a  quiver  of  sadness  in  his  voice  that  the 
gentle  girl's  heart  was  at  once  touched ;  she  put  her  hand 
upon  his  arm  with  the  old  fond,  familiar  touch  of  their  early 
childhood,  and  answered  :  "  Forgive  me,  Charlie  ;  and  I  shall 
repress  my  curiosity — I  shall  not  ask  a  single  question  more, 
but  simply  do  your  bidding." 

How  the  young  priest  quivered  at  her  touch  ;  how  he 
yearned  to  strain  her  to  him,  and  to  tell  her  that  that  paternal 
affection  which  had  always  existed  between  them  was  theiri 
by  right — that  he  was  her  brother  !  but  the  time  had  not  yet 
come,  and  he  turned  away  to  meet  Dennier,  who  had  just 
returned  from  his  room,  where  he  had  made  a  careful  toilet 
for  his  visit  to  the  castle — a  visit  which  his  impatience  would 
not  allow  him  to  defer. 

"  Are  you  going  out  ?  "  he  asked  ;  "  to  what  part  of  the 
city  ?  perhaps  it  lies  in  my  direction  ;  and  as  I  am  rather 
more  familiar  with  the  streets  of  Dublin,  I  may  be  of  some 
service  as  an  escort." 

The  priest  seemed  a  little  nonplussed,  but  a  moment's  re- 
flection enabled  him  to  answer :  "  Mr.  Dennier  " — it  had  been 
the  young  man's  earnest  request  to  affix  no  military  title  to 
his  name, — "  for  certain  reasons  I  have  refrained  from  speak- 
ing of  the  immediate  place  of  our  destination,  but  I  may  tell 
you  now  :  it  is  Dublin  Castle." 

"  Ah  ! "  young  Dennier's  countenance  kindled, — and  he 
seemed  about  to  burst  into  some  ardent  statement  ;  but  he 
evidently  controlled  the  impulse,  for  the  light  died  as  sudden- 
ly out  of  his  face,  and  he  was  silent  for  a  moment.  He  was 
more  than  ever  convinced  of  the  truth  of  his  suimise,  and  he 
had,  during  that  instant  that  his  face  shone,  burned  to  tell 
how  he  guessed  the  import  of  their  mission,  and  how  he  would 


.^  CARROLL  VDONOQHUR 

^Ar* 

fain  dissuade  them,  knowing  that  the  only  result  would  b« 
failure  and  bitter  humiliation  ;  but  it  was  so  delicate  a  matter, 
and  they  had  been  so  silent  about  it,  that  a  second  thought 
prompted  him  to  restrain  his  speech.  He  said  instead  after 
that  moment's  silence  :  "  Permit  me,  then,  to  be  your  escort 
to  the  castle — being  somewhat  familiar  with  the  place,  perhaps 
I  can  facilitate  your  interview  with  the  party  whom  you  wish 
to  iee." 

"  But  your  own  visit  to  the  castle — our  going  now  may  in- 
terfere with,  or  delay  it,"  said  the  priest. 

"  No,"  answered  Dennier,  "  there  is  sufficient  time  for  me  ; 
I  beg  you  to  allow  me  to  perform  this  service." 

Father  O'Connor  seemed  to  accept  gratefully,  and  Nora, 
despite  her  promise  to  repress  her  curiosity,  looked  the  latter 
feeling  from  her  beautiful  eyes.  The  three  repaired  to  the 
castle,  and  there,  just  as  they  were  about  to  enter,  the  priest 
admitted  that  it  was  Lord  Heathcote  he  wished  to  see.  Den- 
nier expressed  no  surprise,  but  Nora  started,  and  she  could 
scarcely  restrain  the  exclamation  upon  her  lips ;  yet,  true  to 
her  promise,  she  did  not  question,  and  the  young  ex-officer, 
having  accompanied  them  to  the  room  in  waiting,  whence 
Father  O'Connor  dispatched  his  name  to  the  nobleman,  he 
took  a  kindly  leave.  The  answer  was  almost  immediately  re- 
turned, that  his  lordship  would  see  the  Reverend  Father 
O'Connor. 

"  You  will  not  fear  to  wait  my  return  here  ?  "  he  whispered 
to  Nora. 

"  Oh,  no,"  she  answered,  striving  to  accompany  her  words 
with  a  smile,  but  her  surprise  and  anxiety  were  too  painfuL 
She  was  not  left  long  alone  ;  in  a  comparatively  short  time 
Father  O'Connor  returned : 

"  Lord  Heathcote  desires  to  see  you,  Nora," — trying  to 
speak  quietly,  but  his  manner  betrayed  more  agitation  than 
she  had  perceived  ever  before.  She  rose  to  accompany  him, 
but  her  limbs  trembled  so  that  she  was  obliged  to  cling  to 
him  for  support 


FATHER  AND  SON.  44I 

"  Why,  what  is  the  matter  ?  "  he  asked  ;  "  you  have  nothing 
to  fear." 

"  I  do  not  know  why  I  should  feel  so,"  she  answered  ;  **  but 
oh  !  Charlie,  this  dreadful  mystery  oppresses  me." 

Her  looks  gave  evidence  of  the  truth  of  her  statement — 
her  cheeks  were  flushed  to  the  deepest  crimson,  her  eyes 
sparkling  with  strange  excitement,  and  the  small  chiseled 
mouth  parted  to  emit  the  labored  breathing  ;  but  all  only  en- 
hanced her  beauty,  which,  despite  the  plainness  of  her  garb, 
never  had  been  more  striking  nor  brilliant. 

"  Pray  !  "  whispered  the  priest 

She  did  pray  all  during  the  ascent  to  Lord  Heathcote's 
apartments,  and  even  for  the  first  moment  after  her  entrance 
into  the  presence  of  the  nobleman,  her  lips  moved  with  the 
closing  of  her  favorite  petition,  the  "  Hail  Mary." 

His  lordship  did  not  look  at  her  at  first — he  sat  in  his 
invalid  chair  with  his  hand  before  his  face  ;  and  it  was  only 
when  his  visitors  stood  fully  within  the  room,  and  the  usher 
had  withdrawn,  that  he  dropped  his  hand,  and  rising,  stood 
before  them. 

What  strange  feeling  was  it  which  came  over  poor  bewildered 
Nora,  as  she  met  the  earnest,  unveiled  gaze  of  those  dark, 
stern  eyes,  as  she  looked  into  that  worn  and  prematurely  aged 
face,  bent  now  upon  her  with  so  singularly  wistful  an  expres- 
sion ?  what  wild  emotion  was  it  which,  threatening  one  mo- 
ment to  stifle  her,  the  next  left  her  pale  and  faint,  clinging  to 
Father  O'Connor's  arm  ?  But  the  eyes  were  withdrawn 
from  her,  and  a  cold,  careless  voice  was  saying  : 

"  I  have  heard  that  both  of  you  favor  the  prisoner  who  is 
under  sentence  of  death  in  Tralee — are  you  aware  that  thii 
is  treason  upon  your  part  to  the  government  ? " 

And  the  stern  eyes  were  again  fixed  upon  Nora,  as  if  an 
answer  was  expected  from  her.  But  she  only  clung  the 
tighter  to  her  companion.  His  lordship  resumed,  still  look- 
»ng  at  Nora  : 

"  I  have  been  told  that  you  are  the  affianced  of  this 


...  CARROLL  O-DONOGffUS. 

^^* 

man  ;  you  then  love  him,  I  presume  ? "  He  spoke  slowly,  ai 
if  he  took  pleasure  in  the  agony  which  the  words  seemed  to 
cause  her  :  "  You  would  then  suffer  with  him,  I  suppose — you 
would  even  suffer  for  him,  perhaps  ?  ** 

Nora  never  knew  by  what  impulse  she  was  prompted,  as  the 
nobleman's  last  words  passed  his  lips,  nor  could  she  ever  ex- 
plain how  it  had  occurred,  but  she  suddenly  found  herself  on 
her  knees  at  his  feet,  wildly  imploring  Carroll's  life. 

"  Oh,  my  lord  ! "  she  said,  with  no  thought  beyond  the 
wild,  uncontrollable  feeling  of  the  present  moment,  "  if  it  is  in 
your  power,  save  him — use  your  influence  that  they  may  not 
take  his  young  life, — spare  hearts  that  are  already  wretched, 
and  which  this  stroke  must  surely  break — do  this,  my  lord, 
and  the  life-long  prayers  and  gratitude  of  many  shall  be 
yours !  " 

"  Rise,  young  lady  ;  you  ask  of  me  what  is  not  consistent 
with  my  office."  He  turned  away,  as  if  he  would  not  witness 
the  priest's  efforts  to  raise  Nora  and  quiet  her. 

44  Take  me  away,"  she   moaned — "  I  am  fainting — ill ! " 

"Will  your  lordship  excuse  us?  we  must  retire,"  Father 
O'Connor  said,  deeply  agitated. 

The  nobleman  returned :  "  Yes  ;  and  to-morrow  I  would 
see  you  alone," — speaking  to  the  priest. 

Father  O'Connor  bowed,  and  the  attendant,  entering  in  re- 
iponse  to  Lord  Heathcote's  summons,  conducted  them  out. 
In  the  waiting-room,  whither  the  young  clergyman  paused  to 
allow  Nora  to  recover  the  strength  of  her  tottering  limbs,  a 
servant  entered,  saying  he  was  sent  by  Lord  Heathcote  to  see 
that  the  young  lady  received  any  attention  she  might  require  ; 
but  Nora  only  pleaded  the  more  eagerly  to  be  taken  back  to 
the  hotel,  and  there,  when  alone  in  her  room,  having  assured 
the  priest  and  Dennier,  who  had  met  them  on  their  return 
from  the  castle,  that  she  only  needed  rest,  she  gave  free  vent 
to  the  anguish  which  had  been  so  cruelly  renewed  by  the 
failure  of  her  impulsive  plea. 


FATHER  AND  SON.  443 

Dennier,  from  a  feeling  of  delicacy,  still  restrained  all  utter- 
ance of  the  thoughts  which  burned  all  the  more  to  break  into 
speech  since  Nora's  disturbed  manner  gave  such  vivid  color 
to  his  suspicions. 


^  CHAPTER  LIT. 

tm  SUMMONS  TO  DUBLIH. 

DENNIER  had  not  long  to  wait  for  his  interview  with  Lord 
Heathcote — almost  immediately  that  his  name  was  dispatched 
the  summons  came  for  him  to  repair  to  his  lordship.  He  was 
not  prepared  for  the  altered  appearance  of  the  nobleman — the 
hair,  which  he  had  left  but  sparsely  streaked  with  gray,  was  now 
as  white  as  if  the  snows  of  eighty  winters  had  frosted  it ;  the 
strong,  stem  face,  bearing  little  mark  to  indicate  that  it  had 
more  than  passed  a  manly  prime,  bore  painful  evidence  of 
premature  age ;  and  the  form,  so  erect,  so  firm,  so  full  oi  the 
vigor  of  its  best  days,  was  now  bowed  and  tottering.  Con- 
trary to  his  usual  custom,  he  was  standing  when  Dennier 
entered,  and  as  the  latter  marked  with  painful  surprise  all  the 
evidence  of  the  mysterious  decay,  there  came  into  his  heart, 
with  the  itrange  feeling  which  the  sight  of  Lord  Heathcote 
always  caused,  a  pity  akin  to  filial  tenderness  for  the  noble- 


Beyond  the  respectful  greeting  of  the  visitor,  to  which  his 
lordship  responded  by  a  slight  bow,  there  was  not  a  word 
spoken  for  some  seconds,  and  the  young  man  was  beginning 
to  feel  a  painful  embarrassment.  But  Lord  Heathcote  spots 
at  last  : 

"I  have  sent  for  you,  Dennier,  to  give  you  a  final  chance. 
Youth  is  ever  impetuous,  and  perhaps  even  now  you  regret  the 
hasty  action  of  your  resignation  ;  a  position,  wealth  and  in 
the  fut«re  perchance,  a  title  await  you ;  there  is  but  one 
condition  required  upon  your  part :  the  severing  at  once  of 
every  attachment  you  may  have  formed  in  this  country  " 

"I  cannot,  my  lord, — not  if  a  kingdom  Uy  at  any 
The  voice  was  low,  but  unmistakably  firm. 


THE  SUMMONS  TO  DUBLIN.  ^ 

"Who  is  the  object  of  this  loyal  attachment  of  yours?" 
Lord  Heathcote  asked  hurriedly. 

"  The  only  sister  of  the  prisoner  who  is  to  be  executed  in 
Tralee  two  weeks  from  to-morrow,"  was  the  unhesitating 
answer. 

"  And  there  is  an  engagement  between  you  ? " 

"  On  the  contrary,  my  lord,  no  hint  which  might  be  con- 
strued into  affection  upon  either  side  has  ever  been  dropped — 
the  esteem,  the  love  which  from  the  first  I  have  borne  this 
estimable  girl,  I  was  compelled  to  keep  within  my  own  breast 
because  I  was  the  hound  upon  her  brother's  path,  becoming 
finally  his  captor  ;  she  was  noble  enough  to  resent  the  friendly 
feeling  I  fain  would  have  expressed,  pointing  out  its  incon- 
sistency with  my  profession.  Since,  however,  it  is  no  longer 
my  duty  to  be  her  enemy,  my  heart  rests  itself  in  the  satis- 
faction of  being  near  her,  to  render  what  little  service  may  be 
in  my  power  when  the  blow  given  by  her  brother's  execution 
shall  have  lost  some  of  its  pain,  and  when  I  shall  have 
asserted  my  manhood  by  devoting  myself  to  some  humble 
toil ;  then,  should  she  refuse  to  reciprocate  my  regard,  I  shall 
still  remain  near  her  to  give  her  such  protection  as  may  be  in 
my  power." 

Lord  Heathcote  did  not  answer  for  a  moment ;  then  he 
spoke  hurriedly,  and  with  painful  agitation  :  "  Dennier,  you 
are  the  son  of  one  near  and  dear  to  me,  but  his  heart  was 
broken  by  the  perfidy  of  an  Irish  wife — she  abandoned  her 
husband  for  an  earlier  love ;  and  the  deceived  man,  from 
that  moment  in  which  he  was  so  ruthlessly  dishonored,  in 
which  all  his  wild  affection  for  his  young  wife  was  so  cruelly 
betrayed,  shut  himself  within  the  recesses  of  his  own  wretched 
heart — his  pride  would  suffer  him  to  inflict  no  punishment  on 
the  guilty  ones ;  it  would  not  permit  him  to  blazon  to  the 
world  the  defamation  of  his  honorable  name.  His  Irish  mar- 
riage  had  been  a  well-kept  secret  from  his  English  friends — 
he  would  throw  the  veil  of  secrecy  more  profoundly  about  it 

"  He  took  back  to  England  with  him  the  child  which  th« 


446 


CARROLL  VD02MGHUB. 


guilty  mother  had  left  in  the  home  she  had  deserted,  and  he 
put  it  away  from  his  household,  and  gave  to  it  another  name ; 
and  though  he  provided  for  it,  and  took  extraordinary  interest 
in  its  career,  people  never  dreamed  of  the  secret  motive  of  all 
that  singular  concern. 

"  Honors  and  a  title  came  to  the  unhappy  father ;  peers 
•ought  him  for  an  alliance  with  their  daughters,  the  favor  of 
the  very  court  became  his,  and  unsought,  and  unwished, 
wealth  and  influence  showered  about  him — but  his  heart 
remained  the  cold,  proud,  aching  thing  it  had  become  on  the 
wreck  of  his  early  happiness.  He  could  not  marry — with  all 
his  pride  and  sternness,  with  all  the  guilt  of  her  who  had  so 
miserably  fallen,  he  could  not  shut  her  entirely  from  his  heart. 
He  wore  hei  picture — she  had  given  it  to  him  in  the  days  of 
their  betrothal,  and,  oh,  bitter  confession  !  he  loved  her  still. 

"  The  son  grew  up  to  win  honor  and  distinction  by  the 
rectitude  of  his  conduct,  and  the  father  was  secretly  proud  of 
him,  for  secretly  he  well  loved  him  ;  but  that  son  now  refuses 
to  comfort  a  heart  so  long  in  sorrow  !  " 

Dennier  could  no  longer  control  himself — the  face,  the  voice, 
the  manner  of  the  nobleman  thrilled  him  too  earnestly,  and 
too  strangely,  for  him  to  doubt  longer  the  suspicion  which 
had  entered  his  mind  soon  after  the  nobleman  had  begun  his 
last  remarks.  He  bounded  forward  : 

"This  story  is  your  own,  Lord  Heathcote — you  are  my 
father ! " 

The  nobleman's  arms  opened,  and  Dennier  wa»  clasped 
within  them — heart  to  heart,  face  against  face. 


CHAPTER  LV. 

CARTER'S  HIGH  HOPES. 

THE  fatigue  of  the  journey,  the  pain  of  the  suspense  to 
which  she  had  been  subjected,  the  renewal  of  her  grief  in  the 
failure  of  her  plea  to  Lord  Heathcote,  told  somewhat  alarm- 
ingly on  Nora,  when  the  next  morning  she  struggled  from  her 
room  to  meet  Father  O'Connor.  The  latter  was  wondering 
a  little  at  the  absence  of  Dennier — he  had  not  returned  to  the 
hotel  since  his  departure  for  the  castle  the  evening  before. 

"  And  I  hesitate  to  leave  you  here  alone,"  said  the  priest  to 
Nora,  "while  I  call  upon  Lord  Heathcote." 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  she  answered,  smiling  faintly  ;  "  I  can  rest  in 
my  room  until  your  return.  Perhaps  then  you  will  be  able  to 
tell  me  the  object  of  this  journey." 

"Perhaps  so,"  he  replied  ;  "  but  I  assure  you,  Nora,  it  was 
not  to  subject  you  to  the  pain  which  our  visit  yesterday  gave 
you." 

44  Certainly  not ;  I  understand  that ! "  striving  to  speak 
cheerfully. 

With  some  misgiving  as  to  whether  the  solitude  and  retire- 
ment of  her  own  room  were  best  for  her  in  her  present  appar- 
ently weak  state,  he  left  her,  trusting,  however,  that  the 
period  of  his  absence  would  be  very  brief. 

In  answer  to  the  message  which  he  sent  to  Lord  Heathcote, 
he  was  told  that  his  lordship  was  too  ill  for  an  interview,  but 
he  was  requested  to  call  on  the  morrow.  Disappointed,  and 
more  anxious  than  ever,  he  hastened  back  to  Nora. 

"  To  stay  here  another  day ! "  she  exclaimed  in  sad  dis- 
may ;  but  that  was  her  only  murmur ;  she  saw  that  Father 
O'Connor  deemed  it  better  to  wait,  and  she  tried  to  appear 
(447) 


CARROLL  VDONOGHUR. 

resigned.  Later  in  the  day,  when  they  were  both  growing 
alarmed  at  Dennier's  continued  absence,  a  servant  bearing  a 
note  arrived  from  the  castle— it  was  from  Dennier,  addressed 
to  the  clergyman,  and  ran  : 

"  Forgive  my  apparent  desertion — I  am  engaged  with  some- 
thing that  may  benefit  our  dear  Carroll.  Do  not  on  any 
account  return  to  Tralee  until  you  have  seen  me,  and  teu 
Miss  Sullivan  not  to  be  anxious  because  of  the  delay. 

Yours, 

WALTER." 

Nora  was  instantly  aglow.  "What  is  it,  Charlie  ?  is  he,  this 
dear  Captain  Dennier,  using  his  influence  with  Lord  Heath- 
cote — will  it  be  a  commutation  of  the  sentence?"  She 
seemed  to  have  recovered  in  a  second  all  her  strength. 

"  I  do  not  know — I  fear  to  allow  myself  to  surmise,"  an- 
swered the  priest ;  "  but  pray,  Nora." 

****••* 

Carter's  spy,  Thade,  had  found  quarters  far  too  comfortable 
in  Dhrommacohol  to  care  to  report  truthfully  to  his  employer. 
With  money  to  treat  old  and  long-absent  cronies,  with  noth- 
ing to  do  but  plan  for  his  comfort  and  enjoyment  the  whole 
day  long,  and  with  a  quiet,  refreshing  country  life  about  him* 
he  compromised  with  his  conscience  by  saying  that,  of  course, 
as  he  did  not  see  Nora,  she  must  be  leading  a  very  peaceful, 
domestic  life  within  doors.  Did  he  report,  the  contrary,  did 
he  conscientiously  say  that  he  saw  nothing  of  her,  neither  in 
the  chapel  on  Sunday  mornings,  where  she  would  be  certain 
to  be,  nor  anywhere  in  the  district  of  Dhromroacohol,  he  well 
knew  that  he  would  be  instantly  recalled,  and  perhaps  the 
means  of  earning  his  comfortable  stipends  taken  entirely  from 
him.  So  he  wrote  that  Nora  was  quietly  living  in  the  little 
pastoral  residence,  and  Carter,  not  doubting  the  report,  was 
satisfied,  and  with  his  brazen  confidence,  constantly  assuring 
himself  that  he  was  safe,  he  waited  for  the  execution  of  Car- 
roll O'Donoghue.  A  week  after  Thade's  departure,  Cartet 
was  somewhat  startled  one  morning  to  receive  a  letter  with  an 


CAHTEIi'S  JUG II  HOPES.  449 

official  seal,  and  marked  with  Lord  Heathcote's  coat  of  arms ; 
it  was  from  his  lordship,  speaking  in  terms  which,  though  am- 
biguous,  still  might  be  construed  by  a  conceited  mind  into  a 
gratifying  significance,  and  such  an  interpretation  Carter  put 
upon  them  ;  his  round  red  face  glowed  with  delight,  and  it  in- 
creased when  he  found  on  further  perusal  that  his  immediate 
presence  was  requested  at  Dublin  Castle. 

41  Ah,"  he  said,  rubbing  his  hands  together  when  he  had 
read  the  letter  a  third  time,  "  I  have  nothing  to  fear  from  any 
quarter — if  Dennier  told  his  lordship  the  hints  I  dropped  re- 
garding his  birth,  evidently  it  has  not  angered  Lord  Heath- 
cote,  and  should  he  tax  me  with  betraying  anything  of  hia 
secret,  I  can  explain  the  matter  by  saying  that  I  was  provoked 
to  it  by  Dennier's  insolence,  but  that  I  was  careful  all  the 
time  to  say  no  more  than  these  mere  hints."  He  took  up  the 
letter  again,  and  reading  for  a  fourth  time  its  contents,  con- 
tinued to  soliloquize  :  "  It  looks  as  if  I  were  to  receive  im- 
mediately the  sum  which  will  enable  me  to  purchase  the 
O'Donoghue  estate — his  lordship  hints  at  my  reward  for  such 
faithful  services  having  been  too  long  delayed — egad  !  but 
luck  is  turning  in  my  favor  at  last ;  Carroll  O'Donoghue  hung, 
his  estate  mine,  and  with  money  to  boot,  I  think  then  the 
means  will  not  be  wanting  to  make  dainty  Nora  mine,  too." 
He  put  down  the  letter  and  gave  himself  up  to  thought  for  a 
moment.  Then,  rousing  suddenly,  he  said,  as  he  began  to 
bustle  about  the  apartment  :  "  Well,  things  will  keep  here 
until  I  return — I'll  be  off  to-night." 

He  would  not  have  been  so  elated,  nor  would  he  have 
started  on  his  journey  with  such  assured  confidence,  could 
he  have  given  one  look  into  the  little  pastoral  residence  at 
Dhrommacohol.  There,  also,  much  about  the  same  time,  a 
letter  had  been  received  from  Dublin,  but  it  came  in  Den- 
nier's hand,  begging  Father  Meagher  and  Clare  to  come  on 
immediately  and  join  Father  O'Connor  and  Nora  ;  it  also 
requested  that  the  clergyman  should  telegraph  the  time  of 
their  start  There  was  nothing  more — it  did  not  even  hint. 


4SO  CARROLL  VDONOGHUK 

as  Dennier's  note  to  Father  O'Connor  had  done,  of  effortf 
being  made  in  Carroll's  behalf. 

And  Clare,  wild  with  wonder  and  anxiety,  appealed  to  the 
old  clergyman  for  an  explanation  ;  but  he  was  as  powerless 
as  herself  to  give  one 

"  You  will  go  ?  "  she  said  ;  "  you  will  start  immediately  ? 
perhaps,  oh,  perhaps  it  has  some  reference  to  Carroll !  " 

"  Yes,"  was  the  reply  ;  "  I  can  send  Moira  down  to  ask 
Father  McShane  to  take  my  place  here,  and  we  can  start  in 
the  morning." 

Clare's  face  slightly  fell — to  wait  till  morning  was  so  long, 
though  she  knew  that  even  did  they  leave  Dhrommacohol 
immediately  they  would  reach  Tralee  too  late  to  take  the 
train  for  Dublin. 

Moira,  with  an  injunction  to  be  quick,  was  dispatched  on 
her  errand  to  Father  McShane. 

Tighe  a  Vohr,  since  the  time  that  he  had  accompanied  Miss 
O'Donoghue  from  Tralee,  now  little  more  than  a  week,  had 
twice  performed  the  journey  to  Tralee.  He  could  not  keep 
himself  entirely  from  his  master's  prison,  though  the  grim 
exterior  was  all  that  he  was  allowed  to  see  ;  and  he  was 
equally  anxious  to  be  near  Clare,  that  he  might  learn  the  first 
news  of  the  two  who  had  made  such  a  mysterious  journey  to 
Dublin  ;  he  had  his  own  wild  hopes  regarding  that  journey, 
and  many  were  the  fervent  petitions  the  faithful  fellow  put 
up  to  Heaven  that  his  hopes  might  be  realized.  Now,  when 
Moira  confided  to  him  the  story  of  the  intended  journey  of 
Father  Meagher  and  Clare,  he  jumped  into  the  air,  and  gave 
one  of  his  peculiar  whistles  : 

44  Faith,  Moira,  but  that's  rale  news — to  Dublin,  eh,  the 
pair  o'  thim  is  goin'  ?  now,  mark  me  words,  Moira,  but  there's 
somethin'  big  afoot ;  an'  I  suppose  they'll  go  widout  as  much 
as  axin'  me  nor  Shaun  to  go  wid  thim  !  well,  that's  not  to  me 
notion  o'  how  things  should  be  done  at  all,  an'  mesel'  an1 
ShaunTl  jist  folly  thim,  an'  they  won't  know  a  word  about  it 
till  they  see  us  both  in  Dublin  along  wid  thimsel's." 


GARTER'S  HIGH  HOPES.  45, 

"  Yes,  and  leave  me,"  pouted  Moira ;  "  you  are  alwayi 
going  away  somewhere  just  as  soon  as  you  get  here — I  don't 
believe  in  the  affection  you  say  you  have  for  me  !  " 

"  Now,  Moira  Moynahan,  was  there  iver  a  man  as  thried  as  I 
am  ?  betune  me  anxiety  for  the  masther,  an'  the  sthrivin'  that 
I  have  to  kape  me  mother  in  timper,  an'  the  way  that  I'm 
humorin'  Corny  O'Toole  jist  to  save  him  from  despair,  an* 
the  manner  that  I'm  takin'  to  show  Father  Meagher  how 
mebbe  it's  a  saint  in  sackcloth  an'  ashes  I'd  be  some  day,  to 
have  you  at  me  now  ;  faith,  it's  enough  to  crass  an  angel ! 
don't  I  wear  the  sign  o'  me  pledge  to  you,  ivery  day  in  the 
year  ? "  He  took  off  his  wretched-looking  hat,  and  pointed 
to  the  dirty,  tattered  mass  of  ribbon  at  its  side.  "Isn't  it  a 
burnin'  shame  for  me,  a  dacent  b'y  as  I  am,  wid  a  characther 
for  sarvin'  gintlemin  that  can't  be  bate  in  the  whole  o'  Ireland 
— isn't  it  a  burnin'  shame,  I  say,  to  have  me  head  disgraced 
be  the  loike  o'  that  ?  an'  it's  all  owin'  to  you,  Moira  Moyna- 
han ;  you  won't  give  me  another  kapesake  that'd  enable  me 
to  dispinse  wid  this  ! "  and  he  angrily  clapped  the  dilapidated 
head-gear  again  on  his  brown  curls. 

"Well,  I  can't  help  it,"  pouted  Moira  ;  "uncle  won't  let  me 
receive  you  as  a  suitor,  and  not  even  for  you,  Tim  Carmody, 
shall  I  disobey  my  dear  old  uncle  !  "  She  drew  herself  up, 
her  air  of  willful  firmness  making  her  look  prettier  than  ever 
to  the  enamored  eyes  of  her  lover. 

"  Nor  would  I  ax  you  to,  Moira  darlin'  ;  but  God  is  good, 
an'  mebbe  He'd  put  pity  for  us  both  in  yer  uncle's  heart,  an' 
whin  he  sees  how  sober  an'  shteady  I  am,  mebbe  it's  not 
always  he'd  be  houldin'  back  his  consint." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  Moira,  shaking  her  pretty 
head,  and  directing  one  of  her  arch  glances  at  Tighe. 

"  Na  bockalish,"  said  Tighe  ;  "  anyway,  we'll  not  moind 
biddin'  the  divil  good-morrow  till  we  mate  him — so  kape  up 
yer  heart,  Moira,  an'  perhaps  it'll  all  come  roight  yet !  " 

Moira  with  some  affright  remembered  her  errand.  "  And 
uncle  told  me  to  be  so  quick ! "  she  said. 


4ja  CARROLL  &DONOQHUB. 

"  Well,  run  on  now,"  said  Tighe  ;  "  an'  I'll  run  alongside  o' 
you,  an'  we'll  be  there  in  no  toime." 

"  No,  Tighe  ;  I'll  not  let  you  take  a  foot  with  me — I'll  go 
the  quicker  without  you  !  "  and  without  waiting  for  his  answer 
she  hurried  on. 

But  Tighe  would  be  true  to  his  determination  of  accom- 
panying her,  and  he  followed,  never  suffering  himself  quite  to 
overtake  her,  however,  while  Shaun,  seeming  equally  im- 
pressed with  the  maneuver,  followed  directly  behind  his  mas- 
ter. The  procession  was  the  same  on  the  return,  and  to 
Moira's  dismay,  Father  Meagher  saw  it  from  the  window  of 
his  study,  where  he  had  been  anxiously  waiting  the  return  of 
his  niece. 

"  Do  not  attempt  to  excuse  yourself,  Moira,"  he  said  stern- 
ly ;  "I  saw  enough  to  give  me  all  the  facts." 

"Well,  but  uncle,  I  wouldn't  even  let  him  come  with  me; 
he  followed  me  himself,  and  Shaun  followed  him." 

"  And  a  pretty  precious  pair  you  are,  both  you  and  Tighe  ! 
Go  to  your  work,  miss  !  " 

Moira  obeyed,  muttering  when  she  had  reached  her  own 
domain  :  "  It's  dreadful  hard  to  be  treated  this  way ;  but 
Tighe  loves  me,  and  I  don't  think  he'd  ever  marry  any  one 
else,  even  if  uncle  never  gave  his  consent." 

Father  Meagher  and  Clare  were  early  astir  next  morning, 
*nd  after  some  directions  to  young  Father  McShane,  whose 
delicate  health  exempted  him  from  regular  duty,  and  some 
parting  orders  to  Moira  regarding  any  interviews  she  might 
be  tempted  to  have  with  Tighe  a  Vohr,  at  which  Moira  pri- 
vately laughed,  knowing  more  about  Tighe's  intentions  than 
did  the  worthy  priest,  the  two  departed.  What  was  their 
astonishment  when,  having  arrived  in  Dublin,  and  Father 
Meagher  was  about  to  engage  a  cab  to  take  them  to  Father 
O'Connor  and  Nora,  Tighe  a  Vohr  and  Shaun  stood  sudden- 
ly  before  them. 

M  Forgive  me,  yer  riverince,  for  follyin'  you,  but  be  rayson 
o'  me  anxiety  about  you  all  I  couldn't  shtay  b«hoind  I've 


CARTER'S  HIGH  HOPES.  453 

an  inklin'  someway  or  another  that  this  journey'll  bring  good 
to  the  young  masther,  an'  I  kem  on  to  know  the  good  news 
as  soon  as  the  rist  o'  you  would." 

"  Well,  as  to  that,  my  good  fellow,"  said  Father  Meagher, 
when  he  had  recovered  from  his  surprise,  "  we  are  as  much 
in  the  dark  about  the  object  of  our  journey  as  you  are.  But 
jump  in," — pointing  to  the  cab — "we'll  find  a  place  for  you." 

"  But  Shaun  ? "  said  Tighe,  ruefully. 

"  Give  him  the  order  to  jump  in  too,"  said  the  priest,  laugh- 
ing. The  dog  required  no  second  bidding;  he  was  soon 
ensconced  in  a  corner  of  the  cushion,  opposite  Clare,  and  all 
having  entered,  they  were  rapidly  driven  to  the  hotel. 

Father  O'Connor  and  Nora  could  hardly  believe  it  possible 
when  they  were  summoned  to  meet  the  new-comers,  but  the 
greetings  on  both  sides  were  none  the  less  eager  and  warm. 

"  What  does  it  mean  ? "  said  Nora  and  Clare  in  a  breath, 
when  Father  Meagher  had  told  all  about  his  mysterious  sum- 
mons, and  Father  O'Connor  had  narrated  simply  what  he  had 
said  to  Nora,  adding,  however,  an  account  of  their  interview 
with  Lord  Heathcote,  and  dwelling  on  Dennier's  absence. 
The  latter  had  not  yet  returned,  and  beyond  that  one  singular 
note,  he  had  sent  them  no  word.  "  It  is,  it  must  be,"  said 
both  girls,  "  something  about  Carroll ;  he  will  be  saved  !  " 

And  hope  once  more  asserted  its  sway,  and  under  its  in- 
fluence their  countenances  and  their  manner  resumed  almost 
all  their  olden  brightness. 

Father  Meagher  was  not  so  hopeful,  though,  loth  to  repress 
the  buoyancy  of  the  two  eager  girls,  he  pretended  to  share 
their  sanguine  expectations.  Father  O'Connor  was  so  unusu- 
ally agitated  that  the  older  priest  could  not  but  express  his 
suspicion  that  the  young  clergyman  was  in  possession  of  more 
knowledge  than  he  had  imparted. 

"  I  am,  father,"  he  answered  ;  "but  I  cannot  tell  you  yet." 

A  few  hours  later,  and  there  promised  to  be  at  last  an  end 
to  their  suspense — a  message  came  desiring  them  all,  provid- 
ing Father  Meagher  and  Clare  had  arrived,  to  repair  to  the 
castle  that  evening. 


CHAPTER  LVI 

CARTER    CONFRONTED    WITH    HIS   QUILT, 

*  Eo AD,  Dennier !  but  you  are  the  biggest  puzzle  of  th« 
ftge — ^hat  with  your  melancholy  that  nothing  could  chase 
away,  then  your  attachment  to  some  wonderful  Irish  beauty, 
and  after  that  your  resignation  for  no  reason  under  the  sun 
but  to  gratify  an  outlandish  whim,  you  were  enough  to  turn 
sager  heads  than  mine  ;  and  now  you  burst  into  my  quarters 
with  hints  of  mysteries  that  are  enough  to  make  one's  hair 
stand  on  end  ! "  And  Captain  Crawford,  with  a  quizzical  ex- 
pression on  his  face,  approached  the  flushed  and  excited 
Dennier,  and  began  to  make  a  critical  survey  of  the  latter's 
person. 

"  Well,  well,"  said  Dennier  good-humoredly,  "  this  evening, 
I  fancy,  will  end  it  all ;  and  after  that,  Harry,  you  shall  hear 
one  of  the  strangest  stories  it  ever  has  been  your  fate  to 
listen  to — something  that  will  make  you  cry  from  your  heart : 
1  truth  is  indeed  stranger  than  fiction  ! '  " 

"Let  me  see  how  much  I  already  know,"  said  Crawford 
playfully,  and  holding  up  his  fingers,  he  began  to  enumerate 
upon  them  each  assertion  that  he  made.  "  You  have  told  me 
that  this  infonner,  Carter,  has  been  at  more  rascally  business 
than  betraying  unsuspicious  Fenians,  and  that,  by  a  decoy 
letter,  you  have  caged  him  so  far  as  to  have  him  already  in 
the  castle,  firmly  believing  that  he  is  about  to  receive  some 
reward  from  the  government,  whereas  to-night  he  will  be  un- 
masked before  those  whom  he  has  foully  injured  ;  you  have  also 
toli  me  that  two  near  friends  of  the  injured  parties,  summoned 
from  some  country  place  to  be  present  at  this  unmasking, 
have  arrived ;  further,  that  you  have  not  trusted  yourself  i» 
(454) 


CARTER  CONFRONTED   W1T11  HIS  GUILT.        455 

the  presence  of  any  of  these  parties  who  are  to  come  in  obe- 
dience to  their  summons  to  the  castle  this  evening,  lest  your 
agitation  should  betray  what  you  desire  to  conceal  for  the 
present ;  then,  also,  you  have  written  to  two  other  parties, 
away  up  somewhere,  to  come  at  o^ce,  and  be  present  at  this 
mysterious  something  that  is  to  happen,  but  so  far  you  have 
received  no  reply  from  them.  Now,  Dennier,  in  Heaven's 
name  give  me  the  key  to  all  this  ! " 

"  I  cannot,  Harry  ;  not  till  after  to-night,"  was  the  tremu- 
lous response. 

"  Will  you  come  to  me,  no  matter  what  the  hour,  when  the 
business,  whatever  it  is,  is  over  ? "  asked  Crawford. 

"  Yes,  Harry  ;  I  give  you  my  word — I  shall  either  come  to 
you,  or  send  you  a  message  to  come  to  us." 

"  Us  !  "  repeated  Crawford  ;  "  by  Jove !  Walter,  but  you 
have  me  as  excited  as  yourself  !  " 

Dennier  laughed ;  it  was  so  like  one  of  his  olden  bursts  of 
merriment  before  either  had  left  England,  that  Crawford  could 
not  refrain  from  saying : 

"Well,  whatever  this  latest  mystery  is,  it  has  had  a  most 
refreshing  effect  upon  you." 

The  young  ex-officer  did  not  reply,  but  waving  back  a 
laughing  adieu,  he  left  the  room. 

The  hour  arrived  which  had  been  appointed  for  so  strange 
an  assemblage  within  the  walls  of  Dublin  Castle,  and  then  at 
last  the  four  anxious  and  mystified  persons  who  came  from 
the  hotel  met  Dennier;  he  awaited  them  in  an  apartment 
belonging  to  Lord  Heathcote's  suite,  to  which  they  were  con- 
ducted, and  he  met  them  with  so  beaming  a  face,  and  so  joy- 
ful a  manner,  that  the  hope  which  had  fired  the  hearts  of  the 
two  girls  now  flamed  more  ardently. 

Clare's  eyes  turned  eloquently  upon  him  as  she  said  :  "  You 
have  favorable  news  to  give  us  of  my  brother  ? " 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  anything  yet,  Miss  O'Donoghue,"  was 
his  response ;  "  I  have  only  to  request  you  to  be  very  patient 
for  a  little  while.  And  now  " — turning  to  Father  O'Connor,  — 
"Lord  Heathcote  would  see  you  first  alone." 


4Sg  CARROLZ  &DOXOGJ1VB. 

The  young  priest  repaired  to  one  of  the  inner  apartment! 
to  which  the  attendant,  summoned  by  Dennier,  conducted  him. 
Lord  Heathcote  met  him  ;  not  sitting,  as  Father  O'Connor 
had  seen  him  on  the  two  previous  occasions,  but  standing, 
and  nervously  tapping  the  floor  with  a  cane. 

"Mr.  O'Connor,"  he  said,  speaking  rapidly,  "  I  cannot  con- 
/ince  myself  of  the  truth  of  the  strange  tale  you  have  told 
*ne  ;  reflection  but  makes  me  think  that  this  man,  Sullivan, 
fabricated  the  whole  to  hide  his  own  guilt ;  you  see  there  are 
no  proofs  further  than  Sullivan's  own  statement,  and  though 
he  has  been  imperatively  summoned  here,  there  is  not  even  a 
reply  from  him." 

Pardon  me,  my  lord,  Father  Meagher  is  here,  and  he  can 
testify  to  the  insanity  of  your  dead  wife  ;  he  can  also  bear 
evidence  to  the  fact  that  Carter  came  to  reside  in  Dhrom- 
macohol  with  a  boy  in  his  charge  who  answered  to  the 
description  of  one  of  your  sons." 

"  Pshaw  !  "  said  his  lordship  impatiently,  "  the  assertions 
you  make  are  not  proofs — my  wife  having  died  insane  is  no 
evidence  that  she  was  not  guilty,  and  this  boy  whom  Cartel 
had  in  his  charge — who  is  to  prove  that  he  was  my  son  ! " 

He  paused,  waiting  some  reply,  but  Father  O'Connor  was 
silent. 

"  No,"  resumed  his  lordship,  "  I  am  not  convinced  ;  and  if 
Carter,  who  is  here  in  the  castle  by  my  order,  denies  the 
charges  brought  against  him,  I  shall  refuse  to  credit  what  I 
have  heard." 

The  priest  ventured  to  say  :  "  Even,  my  lord,  in  the  face 
of  the  evidence  given  by  the  picture  about  your  neck  ?" 

"  No,  no ;  I  do  not  mean  that ;  this  young  woman  whom 
you  brought  to  the  castle,  and  whom  I  saw,  I  know  to  be  my 
daughter  " — his  voice  trembled  ; — "  but  I  mean  regarding  the 
guilt  of  Marie  Dougherty." 

"Well,  my  lord,"  Father  O'Connor  said  again,  "if  you  rely 
for  your  full  conviction  on  a  confession  from  this  man, 
Carter,  you  will  be  disappointed — unless  some  influence  can 


CARTER  CONFRONTED    WITH  HIS  GUILT.        457 

be  exerted  which  will  force  him  to  confess  ;  otherwise,  if  he 
finds  there  are  no  important  proofs  against  him,  he  will  have 
effrontery  enough  to  perjure  himself." 

"  And  in  that  case,"  said  Lord  Heathcote  sharply,  "  in  the 
case  of  his  refusal  to  confess,  and  my  refusal  to  believs,  and 
consequently  to  acknowledge  my  offspring,  would  you  still 
keep  my  secret — would  you  retain  from  this  young  woman  the 
story  of  her  birth  ? " 

"  In  justice  to  her,  my  lord,  I  could  not  do  so ;  she  has 
bitterly  sacrificed  herself  for  a  man  whom  she  still  believes  to 
be  her  father,  as  you  are  already  aware  from  my  recent  tale, 
and  so  devoted  is  she,  that  she  has  not  ceased  to  be  anxious 
about  this  poor  wretch  since  her  arrival  in  Dublin.  No 
inducement  can  make  her  leave  him,  can  cause  her  to  abate 
any  ot  that  self-immolaiion  which  she  deems  to  be  her  duty ; 
would  it  be  just,  my  lord,  to  permit  this  to  continue  for  the 
sake  of  sparing  your  pride  ?" 

"  You  would  then  tell  her,"  said  the  nobleman  somewhat 
bitterly,  "that  she  is  the  daughter  of  an  English  peer?" 

"  Yes,  my  lord  ;  but  when  with  that  information  I  must  also 
tell  her  that  the  English  peer,  refusing  to  credit  the  testimony 
which  has  been  given  him,  refusing  to  obey  the  promptings  of 
his  own  heart,  believes  his  wife,  the  mother  of  this  girl,  to 
have  been  a  wretched,  guilty  woman,  how  much  of  sweetness 
will  be  left  in  my  announcement  ?  Ah  !  my  lord,  your 
daughter  would  rather  have  an  heirloom  of  virtue  than  all 
your  titles  and  estates." 

The  nobleman  bit  his  lip,  and  was  silent  for  a  moment ; 
then  he  said  with  startling  abruptness  :  "  You  have  not  yet 
told  me  the  name  of  the  boy  whom  Carter  had  in  charge,  nor 
where  he  can  at  present  be  found." 

"  Pardon  me,  my  lord,  I  think  I  told  you  at  our  first  inter 
view  that  he  was  leading  an  obscure  life  among  the  Irish  poor, 
with  no  desire  save  that  of  performing  well  his  humble  duty  ; 
he  will  not  trouble  your  lordship." 

"  But  who  is  he — I  would  know — give  me  his  name— 
•peak !  "  And  the  stern  eyes  were  bent  upon  the  priest 


CARROLL  VDONOGHUR. 

"Since  you  ««w/</know,  my  lord — I  am  he.** 

And  Father  O'Connor  stood  with  folded  arms  and  bowed 
head.  He  made  no  motion  to  approach  Lord  Heathcote — 
he  did  not  even  look  at  him,  but  kept  his  eyes  turned  to  the 
floor. 

"  My  God !  my  God ! "  came  from  the  white  lips  of  the 
peer  ;  still  neither  did  he  make  any  motion  to  the  clergyman  ; 
he  only  continued  to  look,  his  gaze  growing  more  wild  and 
thrilling  us  it  traversed  every  part  of  the  priest's  person.  "  If 
I  could  only  fully  believe,"  he  said,  gaspingly ;  "  but  it  may 
not  have  been  my  son  whom  Carter  had  in  charge  ;  and  yet 
my  heart  misgives  me  that  it  was  ;  and  the  resemblance 
comes  out  now  as  I  did  not  notice  it  before — the  profile  of 
the  face,  the  form,  are  like  Walter's — yes,  it  must  be  my  son — 
my  son ! " 

The  thrill  of  that  heart-cry  pierced  Father  O'Connor — with 
one  simultaneous  movement  the  priest  and  the  peer  were  in 
each  other's  arms. 

The  delay  seemed  long  to  the  little  party  which  Father 
O'Connor  had  left — all  the  longer  because  every  nerve  was 
strained  with  hope  and  expectation  ;  and  the  excitement  and 
anticipation  of  the  two  girls  were  increased  by  Dennier's  un- 
usually joyous  and  animated  manner.  Even  Father  Meagher 
had  caught  the  extraordinary  eagerness,  and  he  watched  with 
restless  longing  for  one  of  the  doors  of  the  apartment  to  open 
and  admit  some  one  who  would  put  an  end  to  all  this  suspense. 

At  last  his  wish  was  gratified ;  a  door  opened,  and  Lord 
Heathcote,  accompanied  by  Father  O'Connor,  entered.  Both 
bore  traces  of  recent  agitation,  but  the  nobleman  had  re- 
covered his  wonted  manner  sufficiently  to  bear  himself  with 
his  accustomed  dignified  carriage,  and  to  throw  upon  all  sides 
of  him  his  old  piercing  glance  :  the  latter,  however,  was  tern- 
pered  by  a  smile  which  softened  his  countenance,  and  im- 
parted to  it  a  singular  charm.  Dennier  immediately  «p. 
proached  him. 


CARTER  CONFRONTED   WITH  HIS  GUILT.        459 

"  Introduce  me  to  these  people,  Walter,"  he  said  quietly  ; 
and  Dennier,  with  his  own  courtly  grace  now  enhanced  by  the 
joy  which  shone  so  unmistakably  in  his  manner,  offered  his 
arm  to  the  nobleman,  and  conducted  him  first  to  Father 
Meagher.  The  gray-haired  priest  returned  the  kind  saluta- 
tion in  his  simple,  hearty  manner,  and  Clare  was  next  intro- 
duced, her  heightened  color  and  animated  eyes  forming  a 
pretty  picture  as  she  responded  to  his  lordship's  greeting. 
Nora  was  next,  and  to  her  Lord  Heathcote  said,  as  he  ex- 
tended his  hand  :  "  We  have  met  before,  and  I  have  not  for- 
gotten, young  lady,  the  request  which  you  asked  of  me 
then." 

His  manner,  even  more  than  his  words,  seemed  to  indicate 
that  he  had  given  her  plea  some  favorable  reflection  ;  her 
heart  beat  high  with  hope  and  gratitude,  and  she  could  have 
fallen  at  his  feet  and  embraced  them  in  the  excess  of  her  joy. 
Her  ardent  feelings  were  portrayed  in  her  beautiful  face, 
never  more  beautiful  than  at  that  moment  when  she  stood  di- 
rectly under  the  rays  of  the  chandelier ;  and  the  nobleman, 
as  if  suddenly  impressed,  and  struggling  with  feelings  which  he 
could  not  master,  continued  to  hold  her  hand  and  to  gaze  into 
her  eyes.  But  he  conquered  himself  at  last,  and  he  turned  away, 
saying  kindly,  and  looking  from  one  to  the  other  of  the 
little  party : 

"  I  thank  you,  good  people,  for  obeying  so  promptly  my 
mysterious  summons  to  you  all.  Your  presence  here  was 
necessary  to  help  to  prove  the  innocence  of  a  certain  party, 
and  I  have  adopted  this  means  in  order  to  attain  my  end.  I 
must  crave  your  patience  a  little  longer,  and  then  all  shall  be 
explained  to  you." 

He  gave  a  signal  to  Dennier  ;  the  latter  left  the  room,  but 
returned  in  a  moment,  and  in  a  few  seconds  more — seconds 
that  were  like  hours  to  some  of  the  mystified  and  anxious 
party — another  door  opened,  and  Mortimer  Carter  was  ushered 
in.  With  his  very  first  glance  of  the  assemblage  he  compre- 
hended its  purport,  and  he  braced  himself  to  meet  it : — throw- 


4<0  CARROLL  VDONOGHUX. 

ing  about  him  an  unflinching  look,  he  advanced  to  the  noble- 
man, and  with  startling  firmness  made  his  obeisance. 

"Look  about  you,  Mortimer  Carter,"  said  Lord  Heathcote 
sternly,  "  and  meet  the  evidences  of  your  guilt — acknowledge 
the  innocence  of  Marie  Dougherty — confess  the  crime  which 
despoiled  me  or  my  wife,  and  stigmatized  my  children  !  " 

"  I  know  not  what  you  mean,  my  lord  ! "  and  Carter  drew 
himself  up  undauntedly,  even  defiantly. 

Lord  Heathcote,  despite  his  efforts  to  be  calm,  was  grow- 
ing strangely  agitated. 

"  Restore  to  me  my  son,  whom  you  abducted  from  his  home 
after  you  had  caused  his  mother  to  leave  him  !  here  is  a  wit- 
ness " — with  a  sweep  of  his  hand  indicating  Father  Meagher 
— "who  can  prove  where  you  fled  to  on  the  disappearance  of 
my  family,  and  also  that  you  carried  with  you  a  boy  who  cor- 
responded in  age  to  my  son." 

"  Which  does  not  prove,  my  lord,  that  it  was  your  son,' 
answered  Carter  ;  "  and  I,  knowing  my  innocence  in  this  mat- 
ter, shall  not  take  the  trouble  to  show  that  the  boy  you  speak 
of  is  the  son  of  one  who  was  an  intimate  and  dear  friend  of 
my  own — a  Charles  O'Connor  ;  the  baptismal  certificate  of 
the  boy  has  proved  his  identity  long  ago.  I  perceive  that 
you  have  him  present,  my  lord," — and  he  indicated  with  a  most 
brazen  bow  Father  O'Connor. 

The  nobleman,  to  Carter's  secret  triumph,  was  evidently 
disconcerted  ;  a  look  of  bitter  disappointment  came  into  hii 
face,  but  he  resumed  after  a  moment's  painful  silence  : 

"  Will  you  deny,  also,  that  my  daughter  lived  in  your 
vicinity,  "vithin  your  sight,  from  her  infancy  to  her  woman- 
hood?" 

"  No,  my  lord,  for  that  would  be  a  falsehood."  The  same 
effrontery  marked  Carter's  manner. 

"  And  you  suffered  this,"  resumed  Lord  Heathcote,  "  with- 
out acquainting  me — you  knew  of  her  whereabouts  and  you 
did  not  tell  me  ? " 

"  I  forbore  to  tell  you,  my  lord,  for  this  reason  :  when  I 


CARTER  COftFROtfTED   WITH  BTS  GUILT.        4g1 

arrived  in  Dhrommacohol  with  the  child  of  my  friend,  in« 
tending  to  make  my  home  there,  I  found  that  strange  acci- 
dent had  brought  me  to  the  very  spot  where  Marie  Dough- 
erty's child  had  found  a  home  as  comfortable  as  that  from 
which  her  mother  had  taken  her  ;  but  her  mother  was  dead 
— had  died  insane,  I  learned,  and  her  reputed  father  had  dis- 
appeared for  the  time.  Your  lordship,  if  you  remember,  had1 
already  told  me  at  our  final  interview  that  you  wished  never 
to  look  upon  the  children  of  her  who  had  so  deeply  disgraced 
you  ;  that  her  infamy  might  shroud  her  and  hers  ;  of  what 
use,  then,  would  it  be  for  me  to  acquaint  you  with  the  where- 
abouts of  your  child  ?  she  was  well  done  for,  and  so  long  as 
a  comfortable  home  was  assured  to  her,  it  could  make  little 
difference  to  her  who  was  her  father  ;  after,  when  chance 
threw  me  in  the  presence  of  him  who  had  reported  himself  to 
be  her  father,  and  I  saw  the  miserable  vagabond-beggar  he  had 
become,  and  I  knew,  also,  that  he  did  not  seek  any  longer  to 
claim  the  child,  pity  for  the  unhappy  creature — for  I  saw  that 
he  was  unhappy — deterred  me  from  endeavoring  to  bring  him 
to  justice — beside,  no  justice  could  restore  the  innocence  of 
her  whom  he  had  caused  to  fall." 

Lord  Heathcote  groaned,  and  passed  his  hand  wildly  across 
his  forehead ;  but  again  he  quickly  recovered  himself. 
"When,  in  your  business  of  informer,"  he  said  with  bittei 
irony,  "you  met  and  recognized  me  in  the  garrison  of  Tralee, 
why  did  you  not  speak  of  these  things  ?  " 

"  Your  stern  manner  to  me,  my  lord,  forbade  it — I  felt  that 
my  revelations  would  but  further  anger  you,  since  the  guilt  of 
your  wife  would  still  remain." 

There  was  a  taunting  emphasis  on  the  last  words.  Lord 
Heathcote  flushed  angrily.  "  After,"  he  said,  "  when  you  be- 
came courageous  enough  to  brave  my  manner  " — speaking 
with  stinging  sarcasm, — "  and  you  dropped  hints  of  the  past 
in  my  presence,  why  did  you  not  speak  of  these  things 
then  ?  " 

**  You  forget,  my  lord  ;  you  yourself  closed  my  lips  by  com- 


46a  CARROLL  VDONOQHUR. 

manding  me  to  stop,  and  to  continue  to  bury  within  my 
•wn  breast  all  that  I  knew  of  your  history." 

"  But  again,"  said  the  nobleman,  "  when  this  child,  claimed 
herself  by  this  wretched  man,  sacrificed  herself  for  him — leav- 
ing home,  friends,  and  all  that  was  dearest  to  her, — why  did 
you  not  speak  then  to  save  her  ?  " 

"  Because  of  my  desire  to  save>w/,[my  lord." 

"  It  is  enough !  "  said  the  nobleman,  and  he  waved  him 
away. 

Carter,  with  an  unflinching  look  about  him,  walked  trium- 
phantly from  the  room.  Lord  Heathcote  turned  to  Dennier, 
who  had  not  left  his  side,  and  said  faintly  : 

"  Assist  me  to  another  room — I  would  see  you  alone  ;  and 
ask  these  people  to  wait  a  few  moments." 

Dennier  did  as  he  was  requested,  and  the  little  party  were 
once  more  left  to  themselves. 

Clare,  so  wildly  expecting  to  hear  favorable  tidings  regard- 
ing her  brother,  felt  her  heart  sicken  with  disappointment ; 
perhaps  tf  is  was  all  they  had  been  summoned  for — to  listen 
to  some  revelation  which  for  her  had  no  very  special  interest ; 
for  so  far,  all  that  she  had  heard  had  not  caused  her  a  sus- 
picion of  the  truth,  further  than  to  think  from  the  conver- 
sation which  passed  relative  to  Father  O'Connor  that  his 
might  be  a  case  of  mistaken  identity.  Neither  did  Nora  dream 
that  she  was  the  daughter  spoken  of,  and  while  she  too  was 
disappointed  that  the  nobleman  had  not  as  yet  made  good 
the  promise  he  had  seemed  to  imply  by  his  remark  to  herself, 
hope  did  not  leave  her,  and  she  sought  to  cheer  Clare  by 
whispering  her  own  reasons  for  confidence. 

Father  Meagher  was  so  bewildered  and  so  agitated  by  all 
that  he  had  heard  that  he  could  not  keep  his  chair.  He  paced 
the  room  with  his  hands  behind  him  and  his  head  down — his 
whole  appearance  indicating  troubled  thought.  One  by  one 
he  was  linking  incidents  of  the  past  ;  going  over  in  minute 
detail  the  death  of  Marie  Dougherty,  every  circumstance 
that  had  attended  that  strange  and  sad  demise  ;  then  his 


CARTER  CONFRONTED    WITII  HIS  GVTLT.        46, 

thoughts  adverted  to  the  arrival  of  Carter  in  Dhrommacohol 
—Carter  having  in  possession  a  noble  looking  little  boy, — and 
succeeding  these  reflections  came  others,  equally  as  agitating, 
on  the  remarks  which  had  passed  relative  to  Father  O'Connor  ; 
and  then,  with  still  more  startling  anxiety,  his  thoughts  ad- 
verted to  all  that  had  been  said  of  the  child  of  the  poor  dead 
mother.  He  looked  at  Nora  ;  could  it  be  that  she  was  the 
daughter  of  whom  Lord  Heathcote  had  spoken.  Unable  to 
contain  himself  longer,  he  hurried  to  impart  his  startling  con- 
jecture to  Father  O'Connor,  who,  absorbed  in  his  own  melan- 
choly thoughts,  sat  with  his  head  so  deeply  bowed  that  his 
chin  touched  his  breast.  He  never  for  an  instant  doubted 
Rick's  story — the  earnestness,  the  truthfulness  of  the  poor 
creature  had  been  too  unmistakable  ;  and  he  grieved  now,  not 
that  his  father's  heart,  which  had  but  just  opened  to  him,  had 
closed  again  because  of  Carter's  miserable  falsehood,  but  be- 
cause of  the  sorrow  which  Carter's  wretched  lies  would  bring 
to  other  hearts  than  his  own.  He  looked  up  at  Father  Mea- 
gher's  touch,  but  at  that  moment  Dennier  entered. 

What  had  occurred  to  so  change  the  young  man  ?  his  joy- 
ful mien  had  entirely  disappeared,  and  his  mouth  was  com- 
pressed as  if  from  intense  inward  suffering. 

"  I  would  see  Father  O'Connor  alone  for  a  moment,"  he 
said  ;  "  and  you,  my  friends,  be  patient  a  little  longer." 

The  two  withdrew  into  one  of  the  adjoining  rooms,  and 
there,  when  the  door  had  closed  upon  them,  Dennier  turned 
abruptly,  and  faced  his  companion.  All  the  mysterious  long* 
ing  which  on  the  occasion  of  their  first  meeting,  six  months 
before,  had  shone  in  his  eyes,  came  into  them  now,  and  the 
singular  feeling  by  which  he  had  been  actuated  then  aroused 
again  with  renewed  force  ;  but  now  he  understood  its  cause- 
He  extended  his  arms,  and.  cried  : 

"  William  !  I  have  heard  the  whole  story,  and  I  feel  that 
you  are  my  brother." 

The  young  priest  needed  no  second  invitation  to  clasp  to 
his  heart  one  whom  he  had  already  learned  to  esteem  and  to 


^4  CARROLL  VDONOQHU& 

like,  and  long  and  tender  was  the  embrace  which  united  flt 
last  the  twin  brothers. 

"  And  you  are  the  son  of  Lord  Heathcote  who  was  taken 
to  England  in  your  infancy  ? "  said  the  priest,  when  each  had 
released  the  other. 

"  Yes  ;  "  and  then  followed  from  Dennier,  or  rather  Walter 
Berkeley,  a  brief  account  of  the  strange  events  in  his  life. 
"  But  I  cannot  linger,"  he  said  abruptly  ;  "  I  am  only  here  on 
Lord  Heathcote's  bidding.  He  desires  you,  Walter,  to  tell 
the  others  all,  but  only  on  proviso  that  they  pledge  themselves 
to  keep  it  a  profound  secret.  He  intends  to  have  another  in- 
terview to-night  with  Carter,  the  result  of  which  will  deter- 
mine our  fate — whether  we  are  to  be  acknowledged  as  the 
children  of  his  lordship,  or  whether  we  are  to  lock  within  our 
own  breasts  the  story  of  our  birth  ;  should  Carter  confess,  it 
will  be  the  former  ;  should  he  persist  in  denying,  Lord  Heath- 
cote's  stern  pride  will  not  allow  him  to  acknowledge  to  the 
world  that  we,  the  offspring  of  such  a  guilty  mother,  are  also 
his  children.  Go,  William," — how  sweet  the  name  was  to  the 
ears  of  Father  O'Connor,  or  rather  Father  Berkeley  ! — "  take 
them  back  to  the  hotel  and  tell  them  all  this — later,  I  shall 
join  you  with  the  result  of  the  approaching  interview  with 
Carter.  Now  you  understand  why  I  kept  away  from  you  ;  I 
could  not  trust  myself  in  your  presence,  and  that  of  Nora, 
without  betraying  myself.  Tell  her  so,  William,  and  tell  them 
all — how  it  was  my  proposition  to  bring  Carter  here  and  con- 
front him  with  you  all.  I  suggested  to  Lord  Heathcote  that, 
since  we  were  denied  direct  proof  of  the  traitor's  guilt,  per- 
chance a  sudden  accusation,  before  those  whom  he  had  so 
cruelly  injured,  might  extort  from  him  an  involuntary  confes- 
sion ;  and  Lord  Heathcote,  who  had  already  given  me  his 
entire  confidence,  revealing  phases  of  his  heart  which  could 
not  but  excite  my  pity,  allowed  me  to  manage  everything  as 
I  would  ;  but  so  far  all  has  failed." 

His  lip  trembled,  and  he  turned  away  ;  in  a  moment,  how- 
ever,  he  turned  back,  and  having  taken  a  warm  adieu  of  hie 


CARTER  CONFRONTED    WITH  HIS  QUILT.        465 

newly-found  brother,  he  departed  to  seek  the  nobleman,  while 
Father  O'Connor,  as  we  must  continue  to  call  him,  joined  his 
friends.  They  returned  to  the  hotel,  and  there  the  young 
priest  told  the  strange,  strange  story. 

"  I  felt  it,"  said  Father  Meagher,  jumping  up  with  all  the 
alacrity  of  a  young  man,  and  seizing  the  clergyman's  two 
hands. 

"My  brother!"  exclaimed  Nora,  every  vestige  of  coloi 
flown  from  her  face,  and  her  larjje  eyes  looking  larger  and  un- 
natural in  the  intensity  of  their  wild  stare.  "  Father  O'Con- 
nor my  brother,  and  Captain  Dennier  my  brother  also — surely 
it  is  a  dream  ! " 

She  did  not  seem  to  be  so  impressed  by  the  fact  that  Lord 
Heathcote  was  her  father,  as  that  she  was  the  sister  of  the 
two  young  men,  and  it  required  Father  Meagher's  assurances, 
and  Father  O'Connor's  affectionate  reiteration  of  all  that  he 
had  told,  and  Clare's  joyfully  weeping  congratulations,  to  con- 
vince her  of  her  singular  relationship. 

"  Do  you  swear  to  these  statements  ? " 

It  was  the  interrogatory  put  by  Lord  Heathcote  to  Mor- 
timer Carter,  with  Dennier  as  the  solitary  witness.  Not  a 
ruffle  appeared  in  Carter's  manner  ;  not  a  deepening  of  his 
florid  color,  not  even  an  instant's  dropping  of  his  tyes,  but  with 
all  the  assurance  of  well-imitated  conscious  rectitude,  he 
stood  firmly  drawn  to  his  full  height,  and  his  face  expressing  a 
bold  triumph  as  he  answered  in  a  distinct,  ringing  voice : 

**  I  do,  my  lord,  swear  most  solemnly  that  all  which  I  repeat- 
ed to  your  lordship  a  short  time  ago  in  the  presence  of  those 
who  were  there  assembled  is  most  assuredly  and  unqualifiedly 
true." 

**  Allow  me  to  remind  your  lordship,"  interposed  Dennier, 
M  that  the  oath  of  a  traitor  is  of  little  worth — this  man  must 
hare  already  perjured  himself  many  times  in  the  despicable 
service  in  which  he  has  been  engaged,  so  that  it  required  little 
effort  for  him  to  take  a  false  oath  now." 


66  CARROLL  aDONOGHUR. 

Carter  affected  to  bear  in  silence  the  scathing  imputation, 
waiting  respectfully  for  Lord  Heathcote  to  speak.  His  lord- 
ship  said  quietly,  after  he  had  turned  over  nervously  some 
papers  on  the  open  cabinet  before  him  : 

"  You  have  expected,  I  believe,  as  your  reward  for  recenl 
information  a  sum  of  money  sufficient,  if  I  mistake  not,  to 
purchase  the  estate  of  the  prisoner,  Carroll  O'Donoghue  ?  " 

"  I  have  had  your  own  assurance  of  it,  my  lord,"  answered 
Carter,  his  eyes  beginning  to  sparkle. 

"Well,  Mr.  Carter," — the  nobleman  arose,  and  placing  his 
hands  with  a  careless  gesture  behind  him,  bent  his  sternest 
look  upon  the  miscreant, — "  perhaps  you  are  already  aware 
that  her  gracious  Majesty,  the  Queen,  has  pardoned  recently 
some  of  these  Fenians  ? " 

He  spoke  very  slowly,  as  if  he  would  give  his  listener 
ample  time  to  comprehend  : 

"  Feeling  grateful  for  the  care  which  was  given  to  my 
children  by  this  O'Donoghue  family,  I  have  interested  myself 
in  behalf  of  the  doomed  prisoner  ;  the  result  of  my  efforts 
reached  me  to-day — it  is  an  entire  pardon  of  Carroll 
O'Donoghue,  and  an  order  that  his  estate  be  purchased  and 
restored  to  him." 

The  florid  color  of  Carter's  face  changed  to  purple,  be- 
coming so  deep  that  it  threatened  to  end  in  an  alarming 
blackness ;  the  veins  in  his  forehead  and  neck  swelled — he 
,was  obliged  to  loosen  his  collar  to  give  himself  air. 

"  My  lord,"  he  gasped,  "  you  do  not  mean  that  I  am  to  lose 
my  reward — I  toiled  for  it  night  and  day  !  " 

"  I  regret,  Mr.  Carter,"  said  the  nobleman  ironically,  "  that 
you  are  so  little  the  Christian  as  to  desire  your  reward  at  the 
expense  of  a  fellow-creature's  life — so  diabolical  a  spirit 
would  indicate  deliberate  error  in  the  matter  of  your  sworn 
statements." 

Carter  bit  his  lip  until  the  blood  came  in  his  effort  to  re- 
press  his  baffled  rage.  "  Am  I,  then,  to  have  no  reward  fof 
my  work  in  behalf  of  the  government,  my  lord  ? "  he  asked, 
kfc  voice  husky  and  trcml>liv« 


CARTER  CONFRONTED    WITH  HIS  GUILT.        467 

Lord  Heathcote  answered  quietly :  *  None,  Mr.  Cartel; 
*ave  the  testimony  of  your  own  conscience." 

He  touched  the  bell  ;  an  attendant  entered,  and  baffled, 
discomfited,  humbled  Carter  was  obliged  to  leave  the  room 
without  uttering  another  remonstrance. 

The  nobleman  turned  to  Dennier,  the  anguish  which  he 
had  striven  to  repress  showing  so  painfully  in  his  face  that 
the  young  man  could  not  bear  to  look  at  it  "  Walter,"  he 
said,  speaking  with  difficulty,  "  I  shall  do  every  justice  to  you 
all  save  that  of  making  any  public  acknowledgment — my 
wealth  shall  be  at  your  disposal ;  it  will  enable  Marie  to  bring 
a  dower  to  him  to  whom  she  has  already  given  her  heart ;  it 
will  place  within  your  reach  affluence  for  the  lady  you  would 
wed  ;  and  it  will  give  to  this  young  priest,  to  whom  my  heart 
yearns,  though  I  cannot  yet  entirely  believe  that  he  is  my 
son,  enough  to  enable  him  to  dispense  his  charities.  For  my- 
self, my  failing  health  has  made  me  think  for  some  time  of 
resigning  my  onerous  position — I  shall  now  do  so,  and  re- 
turning to  England,  I  shall  bury,  in  a  life  of  quiet  and  retire- 
ment, this  heart  which  has  sustained  so  many  shocks." 

"  Father  !  "  The  young  man  knelt  beside  him  : — "  Since 
your  own  voluntary  act  will  give  to  her  I  would  wed  the  pro- 
tection of  her  brother  and  her  home  again,  I  ask  no  more.  I 
shall  devote  my  life  to  you,  and  my  brother  and  sister  will,  I 
doubt  not " 

"  Cease  !  "  interrupted  the  nobleman,  with  something  of  his 
olden  sternness.  "  You  do  not  understand  me,  Walter," — his 
voice  softening.  "I  shall  go  away  without  seeing  again  those 
who  remind  me  of  that  unhappy,  that  guilty  past.  I  shall  bury 
myself  in  a  solitude  which  they  must  not  disturb.  If  you,— 
the  sole  one  whom  Marie  left  to  me  when  she  took  her  guilty 
flight, — if  you  choose  to  cheer  my  declining  years, — I  feel  they 
will  be  few — I  shall  accept  the  sacrifice  ;  understand,  I  place 
no  restriction  upon  as  much  of  the  tale  being  told  as  may  be 
necessary  to  make  people  know  that  my  daughter  is  not  the 
child  of  the  degraded  man  who  claims  her  as  such.  I  only 
ask  that  my  name  be  spared  I " 


458  CARROLL  O'DONOGHZTK 

*  Do  not  fear,  father,**  answered  the  young  mat)  somewhat 
bitterly  ; "  in  the  pain  which  must  result  from  the  thought  of 
the  guilt  which  you  still  believe  adheres  to  our  mother,  there 
will  be  little  disposition  to  mention  your  name." 

"Well,  go  now,"  said  the  nobleman  wearily, — "you  say 
that  you  promised  to  join  your  friends — and  come  to  me  in 
the  morning.  I  shall  leave  for  London  to-morrow." 

Dennier  took  a  hasty  adieu,  and  hurried  to  the  hotel,  where 
his  friends  so  impatiently  awaited  him. 

What  a  greeting  was  his — what  a  welcoming  upon  every 
tide !  and  as  he  stood,  one  arm  encircling  Nora,  the  other 
hand  clasped  tightly  in  both  of  Father  O'Connor's,  and 
directly  in  front  of  him  Father  Meagher  and  Clare,  and  the 
whole  party  too  excited,  and  too  wildly  joyful  to  do  more 
than  look  at  each  other  and  give  vent  to  their  feelings  by 
incoherent  exclamations,  he  also  gave  himself,  for  the  moment, 
entirely  up  to  that  unrestrained  joy.  He  would  not  tell  them 
yet  of  the  sadness  which  oppressed  his  own  heart — instead, 
he  would  whisper  first  into  Clare's  ear  the  story  of  her 
brother's  pardon,  and  the  restoration  of  his  property.  She 
repeated  aloud  the  delightful  tidings,  and  then,  while  joyous 
excitement  again  reigned,  she  seized  his  hands  and  cried 
her  grateful  tears  upon  them.  He  could  not  restrain  the  im- 
pulse to  stoop  and  whisper : 

"  Have  I  made  amends  for  all  the  past,  Miss  O'Donoghue?" 

"  Captain  Dennier — Mr.  Berkeley,  I  mean, — how  can  you 
ask  ? "  and  her  beautiful  eyes  turned  upon  him  with  a  look 
which  thrilled  him. 

At  length  Dennier's  communication  was  entirely  made — 
Lord  Heathcote's  determination  and  his  own  resolution.  To 
leave  them — to  go  back  to  England  !  not  even  to  accompany 
them  on  their  return  to  Tralee  in  order  to  congratulate  Car- 
roll on  his  wonderful  good  fortune  !  How  Clare  paled  and 
quivered  !  and  then  for  the  first  time  he  read  the  reciprocation 
of  his  passion.  He  extended  his  hand  while  he  ventured  to 
whisper: 


CARTER  CONFRONTED   WITH  HIS  QUILT.        469 

M  Clare — I  may  call  you  so  this  once — you  will  sometimci 
think  of  me — you  will  pray  for  me — you  will  hope  with  me 
that  one  day  Heaven  itself  will  interpose  to  rend  this  veil 
before  my  father's  eyes,  and  that " 

She  broke  from  him  to  conceal  her  painful  blushes,  but  he 
had  read  more  than  enough  to  convince  him  of  a  very  bliss- 
ful fact. 

He  bade  them  all  adieu,  confiding  his  newly-found  relative* 
to  each  other's  care  ;  and  promising  to  write  speedily,  he  tore 
himself  away,  hurrying  to  the  quarters  of  Captain  Crawtwrd, 
though  it  was  long  past  midnight. 


CHAPTER  LVIL 

THE   RETURN   TO   DHROMMACOHOL. 

NEVER  was  there  a  more  exultant  heart  than  that  of  Tighe 
a  Vohr  when  he  learned  of  Carroll's  pardon  ;  it  was  only  his 
respect  for  Father  Meagher,  the  relator  of  the  good  tidings, 
which  prevented  him  from  throwing  his  caubeen  up  to  the 
ceiling  of  the  hotel  parlor,  and  shouting  aloud  ;  as  it  was,  his 
body  squirmed  with  contortions  expressive  of  his  efforts  to 
contain  his  joy,  and  the  moment  he  found  himself  below  stairs 
in  the  servants'  quarters  his  comical  gyrations,  and  the  tricks 
through  which  he  put  Shaun,  relieved  his  overcharged  heart 
and  convulsed  the  domestics  with  laughter.  He  had  one 
anxiety,  however :  how  should  he  ever  wait  the  return  to  Tralee 
to  be  assured  by  the  evidence  of  his  own  eyes  that  his  young 
master  was  once  more  free.  The  party,  however,  were  already 
preparing  for  their  return,  and  in  a  tew  hours  all  were  once 
more  on  their  whirling  journey. 

On  their  arrival  at  Tralee  they  found  Carroll's  release  still  de- 
layed by  some  preliminaries  required  by  the  law,  but  a  couple 
of  days  sufficed  for  all  arrangements,  and  Carroll  O'Donoghue, 
pale,  emaciated,  but  a  free  man  at  last,  was  in  the  midst  of 
his  friends.  No  eye  could  remain  dry,  no  heart  without  a 
wild  palpitation,  as  they  looked  into  his  dear  face,  and  felt 
that  he  had  been  rescued  from  the  jaws  of  death  itself.  They 
would  not  wait  to  tell  him,  there  in  the  private  apartment  of 
the  governor  of  the  prison,  the  wonderful  circumstances  which 
had  brought  about  his  release,  but  in  a  private  parlor  of 
**  Blenner's,"  whither  they  were  immediately  driven  from  the 
prison,  and  over  a  repast  of  which  all  were  too  excited  to  p*r- 
Uke,  the  wonderful,  wonderful  story  was  told  to  Carroll 
(470) 


TEE  RETURN  TO  DHROMMACOHOL.  47, 

"And  so  my  lady-love,"  he  said  playfully  to  Nora,  or 
Marie,  as  she  was  now  called  by  her  friends,  "  turns  out  to  be 
a  real  lady  after  all — the  daughter  of  a  nobleman !  why,  it  is 
like  one  of  the  romances  we  used  to  read  in  our  childhood." 

Nora  blushed,  and  was  silent. 

There  was  one  cloud,  however,  on  the  happiness  of  the  lit- 
tle party — the  absence  of  Dennier,  or  Walter  Berkeley,  as  they 
all  now  called  the  young  ex-officer.  Carroll  so  yearned  to 
welcome  him,  and  even  Tighe  a  Vohr,  who  had  been  favored 
with  an  embrace  from  his  young  master  as  warm  as  any  the 
latter  had  bestowed,  wondered  to  himself  why  the  Englishman 
kept  away  at  this  time,  when  he  was  so  attentive  to  the  little 
party  before  they  started  on  that  mysterious  journey  to  Dub- 
lin. And  in  the  visit  that  he  contrived  to  make  to  Corny 
O'Toole,  before  they  all  started  for  Dhrommacohol,  when  he 
had  given  Corny  a  graphic  account  of  as  much  as  he  knew  ot 
the  wonderful  events  which  had  happened,  he  concluded  by 
saying  : 

"  You  see,  Corny,  the  comfortable  misgivin*  I  had  about 
somethin'  good  comin'  out  o'  all  thim  quare  journeys  to  Dub- 
lin that  Father  O'Connor  an'  Father  Meagher  wor  makin', 
wasn't  far  wrong.  It's  all  roight  now,  an'  if  only  Captain 
Dennier,  or  Mr.  Berkeley,  as  they  tould  me  his  name  was  now, 
was  here,  I'd  be  quite  contint ;  but  somehow  I  don't  loike  to 
see  him  away  from  Miss  O'Donoghue  at  this  perticler  toime 
—how  an'  iver,  it's  all  roight,  or  mebbe  it'll  come  all  roight 
whin  the  twists  an'  the  knots  that's  always  in  thrue  love  is 
taken  out.  An'  now,  Corny,  we're  all  off  for  Dhrommacohol 
this  viry  evenin',  an'  I  won't  forgit  to  thry  an'  do  me  part  for 
yOU — an*  do  you  hould  yersel'  in  readiness  to  come  on  to  us 
as  soon  as  I  sind  you  word  ;  for  jist  as  shpeedy  as  I  foind  me 
mother  in  the  roight  koind  o'  humor  to  recave  the  offer  o'  yer 
heart  an'  hand,  I'll  aythur  come  mesel',  or  I'll  foind  some 
manes  o'  sindin  you  word." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Carmody,  thank  you  !  "  and  the  little  man 
was  radiant  with  smiles. 


iyt  VA&ROLL 

Moira  Moynahan  was  hardly  prepared  for  the  Infltfl  df 
visitor!  which  came  so  suddenly  to  the  little  pastoral  resU 
dence ;  but  the  fact  that  Tighe  accompanied  them,  and  the 
still  more  joyful  fact  of  being  permitted  to  hear  all  about  it 
from  Tighe's  own  lips,  while  the  remainder  of  the  party  re- 
paired to  the  study,  or  to  the  parlor,  put  her  into  excellent 
humor. 

What  thoughts  filled  Carroll's  mind  as  he  stood  once  more 
in  the  house  in  which  his  last  arrest  had  taken  place — what 
burning  admiration  and  love  for  her  whose  noble  sacrifice  of 
self  had  really  been  the  cause  of  his  release  !  he  turned  to 
her: 

"  Marie ! " 

Accustomed  as  he  had  been  to  Nora,  singularly  enough  this 
newer  name  came  to  him  with  little  effort  to  remember  it. 

"  A  life  of  devotion  to  you,  as  I  shall  strive  to  make  my 
future,  will  be  far  too  little  to  show  my  gratitude,  my 
love ! " 

A  troubled  look  came  into  her  eyes,  though  she  smiled 
faintly  ;  and  without  answering  him,  she  found  some  pretext 
to  leave  him,  and  at  length  to  steal  to  her  old  favorite  haunt, 
the  chapel.  There,  with  her  face  uplifted  to  the  tabernacle, 
she  prayed  : 

"  Oh,  my  God  !  I  thank  Thee — Thou  hast  well  rewarded 
the  little  I  have  done  ;  and  now,  I  pledge  myself  to  do  Thy 
work,  to  serve  Thy  poor,  to  wait  upon  Thy  sick,  to  deny 
myself ! "  She  rose  when  her  prayer  was  finished,  and  re- 
joined her  friends. 

It  still  required  some  little  time  before  the  ancient  home  of 
the  O'Donoghues  would  return  to  the  possession  of  its  heir  ; 
but  Carroll,  knowing  it  would  certainly  return  to  him,  was 
well  content  to  wait — passing  delightful  hours  in  rambling 
over  the  old  grounds,  planning  improvements,  and  greeting 
old  friends.  All  Dhromrnacohol  was  aroused  by  the  story  of 
his  wonderful  release>  and  the  still  more  marvelous  tale  of 
Nor*  McCarthy  not  being  even  Nora  Sullivan,  but  having  to 


THE  RETURN  TO  DHROMXACOHOL.   ,          4?3 

change  her  name  a  second  time  to  Marie  Berkeley ;  Clare, 
as  happy  and  as  eager  as  himself,  always  accompanied  him, 
but  Marie  sought  for  pretexts  to  decline  joining  in  the  ram- 
bles. At  first  Carroll  laughed  at  the  work  which  she  alleged 
as  her  excuse,  then  he  became  a  little  annoyed,  and  at  last, 
on  the  fifth  day  of  their  sojourn  in  the  pastoral  residence,  he 
deliberately  stood  in  the  doorway  of  a  room  which  Marie  was 
about  to  enter,  and  said  reproachfully  : 

"  Now,  Marie,  this  is  positively  cruel  of  you  !  why,  if  you 
treat  me  so  unlover-like  now,  what  will  bt  your  manner  when, 
on  the  restoration  of  our  home,  I  dare  propose  for  a  right  to 
your  obedience  ?  perhaps,  however,"  he  continued  in  a  play, 
ful  tone,  "  it  is  because  my  lineage  does  not  compare  with 
your  own — you,  you  know,  are  the  daughter  of  a  peer  I " 

She  looked  at  him  with  gentle  reproach,  but,  before  he 
could  answer,  Father  Meagher's  voice  was  calling  to  them 
both  from  the  foot  of  the  stair.  They  hurried  down  to  find 
themselves  face  to  face  with  Rick  of  the  Hills.  Yes,  there  he 
was,  but  so  wasted  by  disease  that  he  seemed  like  the  ghost 
of  his  former  self  ;  his  face,  however,  had  no  longer  its  wild, 
unhappy  expression  ;  haggard  and  worn  though  it  was,  there 
was  a  peace,  and  even  joy  upon  it,  which  told  of  quiet  and 
happiness  within.  Beside  him  was  a  pale  and  delicate,  but  re- 
markably pretty,  young  woman — a  charming  modesty  marked 
her  mien,  and  the  taste  and  simplicity  of  her  dress  gave  evi- 
dence of  no  ordinary  mind.  She  was  in  turn  accompanied 
by  an  elderly  female  dressed  in  deep  mourning,  and  on  the 
other  side  of  Rick  was  a  beautiful  boy — but  his  beauty,  ex- 
quisite though  it  was,  was  also  saddening  by  the  evidence  it 
gave  of  early  decay — the  hectic  color,  the  lustrous  eyes,  the 
marble  brow,  all  told  of  fast  approaching  dissolution. 

Clare  was  already  in  the  room,  standing  near  the  young 
woman,  and  on  the  entrance  of  Carroll  and  Marie,  Rick 
trembled  so  violently  that  he  could  scarcely  stand. 

"  You  have  nothing  to  fear,  Rick,"  said  the  priest  re-as- 
furingly  ;  "  you  have  been  forgiven  everything.  Here," — ap 


474  CARROLL  &DONOGHUR. 

preaching  the  young  woman,  and  leading  her  forward—"  li 
Rick's  true  daughter,  Cathleen.  And  here" — drawing  for- 
ward  also  the  elderly  lady — "  is  the  good  woman  who  has 
proved  a  true  mother  to  Cathleen.  And  here  " — crossing  to 
the  boy,  and  taking  him  by  the  hand — "  is  the  little  lad  of 
whom  Father  O'Connor  gave  us  so  touching  an  account. 
Now,  Rick,  tell  us  why  you  did  not  reach  Dublin  in  time  to 
be  present  at  the  interview  we  all  had  with  Lord  Heath- 
cote?" 

The  poor  fellow,  weak  as  he  seemed  to  be,  would  have 
stood  to  tell  his  story ;  but  Father  Meagher  forced  him  into 
his  chair  ;  and  he  dispatched  Moira,  whose  curiosity  had 
made  her  thrust  her  head  in  at  the  door,  for  a  drink  which 
should  revive  the  feeble  man. 

"  Why,  do  you  see,"  he  began,  "  the  shock  of  what  I  told 
Cathleen,  together  with  my  own  wild  feelings — for  I  couldn't 
contain  myself  at  all  when  I  saw  in  her  face  that  same  look 
that  had  never  left  my  heart  since  she  was  taken  from  me, — 
prostrated  her  entirely ;  and  when  she  recovered  enough  to 
weigh  well  all  that  I  told  her,  and  to  look  into  the  proofs  that 
I  brought  her  of  my  strange  story,  and  to  listen  to  the  prompt- 
ings of  her  own  heart,  which  forced  her  to  believe  me,  it 
left  her  so  weak — though  at  the  same  time  happy — that  for 
some  days  there  was  even  danger  of  her  death.  The  letter, 
which  told  me  to  come  immediately  to  Dublin,  arrived  at  that 
time  ;  I  could  not  leave  my  darling  then,  when  there  was  like- 
lihood of  God  himself  taking  her  from  me,  and  I  waited,  pray- 
ing to  have  her  restored  ;  she  was  restored,  and  with  her  first 
return  of  strength,  learning  of  the  letter  which  had  come  to 
me,  she  insisted  on  bearing  me  company.  Although  she  is 
present,  I  may  tell  you  what  she  said. 

"  '  Father,  let  me  go  with  you  ;  let  me  beg  forgiveness  for 
you  from  her  whom  you  caused  to  make  such  a  bitter  sacri- 
fice !' 

"  So  we  all  came — the  good  woman,  who  would  not  b« 
parted  from  Cathleen,  and  the  boy,  Hartley  Donovan,  who 


THE  RETURN  TO  DHJIOMMACOHOL.  47j 

would  not  remain  after  us — and  we  reached  Dublin,  to  find 
nobody  there  who  wanted  us  ;  we  came  on  then  to  Dhrom- 
macohol,  and  before  we  got  as  far  as  this  we  heard  every, 
body  full  of  Mr.  O'Donoghue's  release,  and  the  rumor  that 
his  estate  was  to  be  restored  to  him,  and  how  Miss  McCarthy 
that  was,  was  no  longer  even  the  daughter  of  Rick  of  the 
Hills,  but  a  Miss  Berkeley  ;  though  the  people,  who  thought 
they  knew  so  much,  did  not  seem  to  know  any  more  than 
just  these  bare  facts.  They  were  enough,  however,  to  tell 
me  that  justice  had  been  done,  and  I  came  here  with  a 
lighter  heart ;  and  now  " — he  would  rise  and  face  them  all, — 
"  I  have  a  few  explanations  to  make  for  my  own  peace  of 
mind  :  I'll  not  dwell  on  the  influence  that  Carter  had  upon 
mej—  I'll  not  tire  you  with  telling  of  the  remorse  which  tor- 
mented my  conscience  through  all  that  dreadful  time — perhaps 
Father  O'Connor  has  told  you  a  little  of  it — but  I  must  say 
this  :  Father  Meagher  " — he  turned  more  immediately  to  the 
priest, — "  when  I  sought  to  excuse  my  claiming  of  Miss  McCar- 
thy as  my  daughter  by  saying  that  it  was  the  love  for  my  child 
which  drove  me  to  it,  and  when  I,  seeing  you  touched  and 
won  by  my  plea,  made  it  the  stronger  and  wilder,  it  was  not  a 
lie — I  told  you  no  falsehood — for  it  was  of  Cathleen  I  thought ; 
it  was  of  my  love  for  Cathleen  that  I  spoke.  And  afterward, 
not  to  be  guilty  in  the  sight  of  Heaven  of  allowing  a  touch  of  her 
pure  hands  upon  me,  she  herself  can  tell  you  how  I  commanded 
her  never  to  rest  even  her  fingers  upon  my  arm.  God,  how- 
ever, had  his  own  blessed  way  of  rewarding  her  goodness. 
Her  devotion  to  me,  her  kindness,  even  when  I  read  loathing 
and  horror  in  her  eyes,  were  breaking  my  heart ;  her  efforts 
to  reform  me  so  touched  my  soul  that  many  a  time,  whsn 
nothing  else  would  stop  me,  the  thought  of  her  face,  the 
memory  of  her  words,  kept  me  from  drowning  my  misery  in 
drink.  And  at  last,  when  Father  O'Connor  came  to  us,  when 
he  said  to  me  at  parting  such  strange  words  that  they  seemed 
as  if  he  had  read  my  heart,  I  took  desperate  courage  and  de- 
termined to  fling  off  my  burden  ;  there  was  little  use  in  wait- 


476 


CARROLL 


ing  longer  for  Carter  to  redeem  his  word,  and  restore  to  me 
Cathleen  ;  my  heart  misgave  me  that  Cathleen  was  dead,  and 
that  Carter  would  not  tell  me,  knowing  that  in  that  case  his  chief 
influence  over  me  would  be  destroyed.  I  went  to  Father  O'Con- 
nor, and  you  know  the  result.  I  feel  now  that  my  days  are  num- 
bered ;  but  my  peace  is  made  with  God,  and  when  all  of  you, 
whom  I  have  so  cruelly  injured,  assure  me  that  you  forgive 
me,  I  have  nothing  more  to  ask." 

He  turned  tc  Marie,  and  before  she  could  prevent  him,  he 
was  kneeling  at  her  feet 

Everybody  was  crying  :  even  Father  Meagher,  though  he 
sought  to  conceal  his  emotion  by  shaking  his  head  and  pre- 
tending that  the  use  of  his  handkerchief  was  only  to  remove 
the  perspiration.  Carroll  O'Donoghue,  who  stood  beside 
Marie,  instantly  stooped  with  her  to  raise  the  suppliant. 

"  Dear  Rick,"  said  Marie  softly,  "  my  part,  my  sacrifice, 
have  been  little  compared  with  your  noble  repentance  !  " 

A  smile  of  ineffable  joy  broke  over  his  face,  and  motioning  to 
Cathleen  to  draw  near,  he  put  her  hand  in  that  of  Marie, 
saying  to  the  latter  :  "  May  I  ask  you  to  be  her  friend  ? " 

Marie's  answer  was  a  warm  embrace  of  the  young  fragile 
girl 

Tighe  a  Vohr  had  heard  from  Moira  something  of  the 
strange  scene  in  the  parlor  ;  she  had  contrived  to  remain 
when  she  returned  with  the  drink  which  her  uncle  had 
ordered  for  Rick,  but  which  the  latter  had  forgotten  to  take, 
though  it  had  been  placed  beside  him.  And  Tighe,  when  he 
had  heard  sufficient  from  the  priest's  niece  to  know  that  Rick 
was  craving  forgiveness,  ventured  himself  to  the  parlor  door 
and  asked  permission  to  add  a  little  to  Rick's  statement. 
The  permission  was  willingly  given,  and  then,  in  his  own 
peculiar,  but  none  the  less  interesting  manner,  he  told  of  the 
way  in  which  Rick  had  intercepted  Carter's  plan  for  Carroll's 
mock  release. 

"  I  tould  you  I'd  not  forgit  that  good  turn,"  he  said,  as  a 
sort  of  explanation  to  Rick,  "  an'  I  think  I  can  shwear  that 
the  young  masther'll  not  forgit  it  avthur," 


TOE  RETURN  TO  DHfiOMMACOBOL.  4jj 

"  Indeed  you  can,  Tighe  !  "  And  Carroll  O'Donoghue  wat 
again  supporting  Rick,  and  warmly  shaking  his  hand.  "  You 
shall  live  with  me,  Rick,"  he  said  ;  "your  home,  your  happy 
home,  with  Cathleen  at  its  head,  shall  be  upon  our  estate,  and 
neither  you  nor  yours  shall  ever  want  for  anything  again." 

"  Surely,  God  is  too  good  !  "  murmured  the  poor  fellow, 
looking  about  him  with  eyes  swimming  in  grateful  tears. 

All  were  to  dine  in  the  little  pastoral  residence,  and  Clare, 
when  the  joyful  excitement  was  somewhat  subdued,  stole 
into  the  kitchen  to  assist  Moira.  Nora  would  have  followed, 
but  Carroll  intercepted  her,  insisting  that  she  should  repair  to 
the  study  to  listen  to  some  communication  from  him.  She 
entered  reluctantly,  and  he,  closing  the  door,  leaned  against 
it  with  folded  arms. 

"  Now,  Marie,  I  insist  upon  a  straightforward  answer.  We 
have  both  gone  through  too  much  to  trifle  with  our  happiness 
longer.  In  a  fortnight  work  will  begin  upon  the  estate,  and 
the  dear  old  home  will  be  speedily  renovated.  When  that  is 
done,  will  you  become  my  wife  ? " 

She  did  not  speak ;  instead,  her  bosom  heaved,  and  her 
eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"  Answer  me,  Marie  !  "  he  said  in  an  alarmed  tone.  "  Surely 
there  is  nothing  now  to  prevent  ?  " 

She  answered  slowly :  "  I  would  not  have  your  wife  one 
who  is  stained  with  the  disgrace  of  her  mother." 

"  Is  that  all  ? "  he  exclaimed  joyfully.  "  Marie,  did  you 
think  this  heart  of  mine  could  give  you  up  for  anything  in 
the  world  ?  it  \*you  I  want— -you,  as  you  are,  with  your  own 
pure  heart  and  noble  mind,  regardless  of  what  those  may 
have  been  from  whom  you  have  sprung  ;  further,  I  deem  the 
innocence  of  your  mother  to  be  firmly  established.  Are  you 
satisfied  ? " 

«  Yes," — placing  her  hands  voluntarily  in  his — "  but  I  hav« 
a  request  to  make." 

"  Speak,  dearest ;  it  is  granted  before  you  utter  it* 

*  That  you  defer  our  wedding." 


47« 


CARROLL  VDONOGHUE. 


His  face  fell ;  he  had  not  dreamed  that  such  was  to  be  tht 
purport  of  her  boon. 

"  There  is  no  need  for  haste,"  she  said  ;  "  wait,  and  busy 
yourself  with  the  improvements  you  have  planned  on  the  estate. 
I  have  a  hope  that  something  will  happen  to  convince  Lord 
Heathcote  of  my  mother's  innocence,  and  I  would  bring  to 
the  altar  with  you  a  name  as  unstained  as  your  own  is." 

It  was  useless  for  him  to  remonstrate  or  entreat ;  the  utmost 
to  which  she  would  yield  was  not  to  delay  the  wedding  longer 
than  a  year. 

"And  in  the  meantime,"  he  asked,  "what  will  you  do?" 

"  Continue  to  live  here  with  Father  Meagher  and  Moira ; 
I  thought  of  going  to  Father  O'Connor,  now  that  he  is  really 
my  brother,  you  know  " — speaking  playfully, — "  but  his  rever- 
ence, in  answer  to  the  letter  which  I  wrote  him  to  that  effect, 
disapproves  of  the  plan — he  says  it  is  better  to  let  his  parish- 
ioners remain  ignorant  of  his  changed  identity,  especially  as 
Lord  Heathcote  could  not  be  quite  convinced  that  he  was 
his  son.  So,  as  I  could  not  go  to  him  known  as  his  sister, 
why,  I  shall  remain  as  I  am,  and  he  will  be  still  plain,  humble 
Father  O'Connor." 

Carroll  shook  his  head.  "  Clare  and  I  shall  remove  to  the 
old  home  as  soon  as  it  is  prepared,  and  your  home  shall  be 
with  us,  as  it  always  has  been." 

44  No,  no,  Carroll,  you  must  let  me  have  my  own  way  in  this 
matter ;  and  after,  when  Providence  deigns  to  permit  our 
union,  I  shall  be  as  obedient  as  even  you  can  wish  me  to  be,** 

He  was  forced  to  be  satisfied. 

That  very  afternoon  Carroll,  accompanied  by  Fathei 
Meagher,  sought  for  a  cottage  which  might  form  a  temporary 
home  for  Rick  and  his  family ;  and  one  was  secured  not  a 
great  distance  from  the  little  pastoral  residence.  Thither* 
after  an  interval  of  two  days,  during  which  Carroll  had  it  re- 
paired and  neatly  furnished,  the  little  family  removed. 

Sullivan  had  grown  alarmingly  weak,  even  more  so  when 
be  learned  from  Father  Meagher — the  latter  being  obliged  to 


TEE  RETURN  TO  DHROMMAUVHOL.  479 

tell  him  because  of  Rick's  own  earnest  questions — that,  had 
he  reached  Dublin  in  time  to  give  his  evidence  to  Lord  Heath- 
cote,  the  latter  might  have  been  convinced  of  the  innocence 
of  his  wife. 

"  I  shall  endeavor  to  get  to  London,"  he  said,  "  I  shall 
compel  his  lordship  to  believe  me." 

But  the  priest  well  knew  that  his  journey  would  be  sooner 
to  the  bourne  beyond  the  grave  than  the  one  he  contemplated. 
And  so  it  proved  to  be.  From  the  moment  he  entered  the 
pretty  little  cottage  he  was  scarcely  able  to  leave  his  bed ; 
everybody  vied  with  Cathleen  in  ministering  to  him — even 
the  neighbors,  who  could  not  cease  to  wonder  at  the  strange 
fact  of  Rick's  new  daughter,  as  they  called  Cathleen  ;  but, 
next  to  Cathleen's  own  tender  hand,  Rick  liked  to  have  Tighe 
a  Vohr  about  him ;  the  simple  fellow,  gentle  and  kind  as  a 
woman,  had  won  the  poor  sick  man's  heart,  and  to  Tighe,  when 
Rick's  strength  would  permit,  he  loved  to  talk  of  all  the  re- 
cent strange  events,  and  to  deplore  his  absence  from  Dublin 
at  a  time  when  his  evidence  might  have  done  so  much.  In 
that  way  Tighe  learned  all  about  Lord  Heathcote's  refusal  to 
make  any  public  acknowledgment  of  his  children,  owing  to 
Carter's  denial  of  his  guilt  of  the  past,  and  with  his  natural 
shrewdness,  he  divined  the  cause  of  Dennier's  (or  Berkeley's) 
absence,  and  on  the  day  on  which  he  was  thus  enlightened 
by  his  reflections,  he  vented  his  feelings  to  Shaun,  when  the 
two  were  out  on  the  country  road  : 

"  So,  it's  that  ould  baste  o'  a  Carther  that's  the  manes  o 
kapin'  Miss  O'Donoghue  an'  that  noble-hearted  Englishman 
apart  ! — it's  a  wondher  the  loightnin'  o'  Heaven  doesn't 
sthrike  the  ould  vagabone  an'  make  him  confiss  !  How  an* 
iver,  it's  a  long  lane  that  has  no  turn,  an'  mark  me  words  for 
it,  Sbaun,  but  he'll  be  ketched  in  a  noose  o'  his  own  makin* 


CHAPTER  LVIIL 

COVICTID  AT   LAST. 

TAUTER  was  in  his  old  room  in  Tralee,  a  bottle  an  1  glass 
0»i  tb«  table  before  which  he  sat,  and  his  bloated  face  and 
blood-shot  eyes  betraying  how  deep  had  been  his  potation. 

"They  thought  to  snare  me,"  he  muttered,  again  half -filling 
his  glass,  and  draining  its  contents,  "  but  I  carried  the  day 
by  my  courage.  It's  a  wonder  they  didn't  have  Rick  of  the 
Hills  to  face  me — and  if  they  did,  it  would  have  been  the 
same,  for  I'd  pretend  to  put  the  lies  down  his  throat.  They 
snatched  the  game  from  me — they  foiled  me  of  my  revenje^ — 
but  I'll  give  them  a  parting  blow  before  I  leave  !  I'll  wait 
awhile  yet,  and  I'll  set  another  watch  on  Dhrommacohand 
may  be  I'll  find  some  opportunity  of  abducting  that  pretty 
Marie,  and  if  I  don't,  I'll  put  a  bullet  through  Carroll 
O'Donoghue's  heart — that  will  give  his  dainty  affianced  a 
life-long  grief.  It  is  time  Thade  was  here," — looking  at  his 
watch  ;  and  then  he  helped  himself  to  another  glass  of  the 
liquor.  At  that  instant  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and 
before  Carter  could  respond,  Thade  entered.  "Well,  will 
you  be  ready  to  start  this  evening  ?  "  said  Carter. 

"  Aye,"  answered  Thade. 

"  And  mind  you  do  your  business  better  than  you  did  it 
before — sending  me  reports  that  ev  erything  was  quiet,  and 
the  pastor  of  the  parish  at  that  very  time  thinking  of  starting 
for  Dublin  ! " 

"Well,  how  was    I  to  know  that?"  said  Thade  surlily; 

"  didn't  I  watch,  an'  as  soon  as  I  saw  himsel'  an'  Miss  O'Don- 

oghue,  an'  Tighe  a  Vohr  follyin'  thim,  didn't  I  write  to  tell 

you  BO  ?  but  you  vere  away  whin  the  letthcr  came,  an*  I, 

(480) 


CONVICTED  AT  LAST.  4$, 

wondherin*  that  you  gev  me  no  answer,  naythur  to  that  nor 
to  another  that  I  sint,  came  up  here  mesel',  to  foind  that  you 
had  gone  to  Dublin.  It's  you  that  had  a  roight  to  sind  me 
word,  an'  not  be  kapin'  me  in  the  loike  o'  that  suspinse  !  " 

"Well,  I  suppose  I  had,"  said  Carter,  considerably  molli- 
fied ;  "  but  I  didn't  expect  to  be  gone  long,  and  I  wouldn't 
have  been,  either,  only  they  showed  me  such  attention  in 
Dublin  Castle,  telling  me  that  Lord  Heathcote  was  too  ill  to 
see  me  for  a  few  days,  but  that  he  wished  everything  to  be 
done  for  my  comfort." 

"  Faix,  Mr.  Carther,  but  you  must  be  a  great  man  intoirely 
to  be  recaved  at  Dublin  Castle  that  way  ! " 

"  May  be  I  am,  Thade  ;  and  may  be,  if  you  serve  me  well, 
there's  no  knowing  what  I'll  do  for  you." 

"  The  divil  a  fear  o'  me,  Mr.  Cariher  ;  I'll  sarve  you  as  if 
you  were  me  own  brother  !  " 

"  Very  well,  then,  Thade  ;  and  here  are  the  funds  you  will 
need  " — counting  out  a  couple  of  pound  notes  ;  "  and  help 
yourself  to  a  drink  before  we  part." 

Thade,  with  every  sign  of  delight,  obeyed  the  invitation, 
drinking  to  Carter's  health  and  success,  and  at  length,  having 
safely  put  away  his  money,  he  departed. 

Every  day  or  two  Carter  received  plainly-written,  but  badly- 
spelled  letters,  and  for  a  fortnight  after  Thade's  departure 
they  contained  no  news  further  than  that  Mr.  O'Donoghue 
and  his  sister,  with  the  young  lady  now  known  throughout 
Dhrommacohol  as  Miss  Berkeley,  were  residing  with  Father 
Meagher  ;  that  improvements  were  being  made  rapidly  on  the 
O'Donoghue  estate,  and  while  everybody  seemed  to  be  antici» 
pating  the  speedy  marriage  of  Mr.  O'Donoghue  and  Misf 
Berkeley,  no  one  seemed  to  know  the  precise  date  of  the  ex- 
pected event ;  the  letters  also  stated  how  Rick  of  the  Hills, 
in  a  dying  condition,  lived  in  a  cottage  near  the  pastoral  resi- 
dence, with  a  young  woman  said  to  be  his  daughter.  And 
Carter  read  the  missives  again  and  again,  and  said  to  himself  : 

"  I'll  wait  awhile  longer  ;  I'll  wait  until  the  full  tide  of  hap- 


4g,  CARROLL  VDONOQHUK 

piness  sets  in  upon  them — until  both  of  their  hearts  are  burst- 
ing with  joy — and  then  I'll  strike  ! "  He  ground  his  teeth 
with  savage  feeling. 

One  day  a  letter  came  to  him  stating  that  Carroll  O'Don- 
oghue  and  his  sister  had  gone  to  reside  in  their  old  home,  and 
that  Miss  Berkeley  did  not  accompany  them — that  it  was  even 
reported  how  her  marriage  had  been  postponed  for  a  year,  for 
some  unknown  reason,  and  that  she  would  continue  to  live  in 
the  pastoral  residence. 

"  Now  is  my  time  !  "  said  Carter  glowingly,  and  that  even- 
ing saw  him  on  his  way  to  Dhrommacohol. 

Rick  of  the  Hills  was  dying. ;  about  his  bed  were  gathered 
all  those  he  so  loved  to  see — Cathleen,  his  own  tender  Cathleen, 
on  one  side  of  him,  Marie  on  the  other  ;  Clare,  with  affectionate 
Bartley,  and  Mrs.  Kelly,  the  good  woman  whom  Rick  loved 
for  her  kindness  to  his  child,  and  Carroll,  and  Tighe,  all  kneel- 
ing about  his  bed.  Father  Meagher,  who  had  already  admin- 
istered the  last  rites,  stood  close  to  the  dying  man,  often  re- 
placing the  crucifix  which  fell  from  his  clammy  hand.  He 
was  perfectly  conscious,  and  he  turned  to  them  frequently 
with  such  an  exquisite  smile  that  it  seemed  to  transfigure  his 
countenance,  murmuring  :  "  It  is  so  sweet  to  be  forgiven  !  " 

But  his  lips  closed  at  last  to  open  no  more,  and  the  cold 
dew  of  death,  and  the  ashen  color  of  his  face,  proclaimed  that 
his  soul  had  fled.  Then  Cathleen's  wild  grief  burst  forth  : 

"  My  poor,  penitent  father ! "  she  said,  throwing  herself 
upon  his  body,  and  pressing  to  her  own  the  clammy  face. 

Brief  as  the  time  was  during  which  she  had  known  him,  she 
had  discovered  all  th*  depths  of  that  touching  love  for  her- 
*elf ;  and  his  gentleness  and  patience  during  his  illness,  to- 
gether with  his  contrition  for  the  past,  which  was  so  constant 
and  so  sincere,  had  won  all  the  affection  of  her  gentle  nature. 

They  would  not  leave  her,  and  as  she  could  not  be  per- 
suaded to  be  removed  from  the  lifeless  body,  it  was  decided 
that  all  should  remain  in  the  little  cottage  until  morning — it 
was  now  an  hour  past  midnight  ;  and  Tighe  volunteered  to  go 
on  anv  immediate  errands  which  might  be  required. 


CONVICTED  At  LAS?.  4g3 

Two  stalwart  neighbors,  who  had  kindly  remained  in  an 
adjoining  room  waiting  for  the  final  scene,  proffered  to  ac- 
company him,  and  the  three  departed.  As  they  neaied 
Father  Meagher's  residence,  which  lay  in  their  immediate 
direction,  and  the  moon  emerging  from  a  cloud  distinctly  re- 
vealed objects  for  a  moment,  Tighe  fancied  he  saw  the  shadow 
of  a  man  loom  up  against  the  wall  of  the  house.  He  knew 
that  Moira  and  his  mother,  who  came  on  certain  days  to  help 
the  priest's  niece,  and  at  such  times  generally  remained  all 
night,  were  the  sole  occupants  of  the  little  domicile,  and  his 
heart  beat  wildly  at  the  thought  of  danger  to  them. 

"  Hist ! "  he  said  to  his  companions,  who  declared  that  they 
also  had  seen  the  shadow  ;  "  do  ache  o'  you  take  a  soide  o' 
the  house  an'  watch  ;  I  shall  take  the  shpot  where  I  thought 
I  saw  the  man." 

All  were  armed  with  good  stout  sticks,  and  they  separated, 
each  walking  as  guardedly  as  possible.  It  was  quite  dark 
again — not  an  object  could  be  discerned  ;  and  with  his  ears 
strained,  and  with  every  nerve  drawn  to  its  utmost  tension, 
Tighe  waited.  A  long  time  elapsed — so  long  a  time  that 
Tighe  began  to  think  he  was  mistaken  ;  and  just  as  he  had 
determined  to  end  his  suspense  by  rapping  up  Moira  and  his 
mother,  a  window  just  above  his  head  was  raised  gently,  and 
a  voice  called  softly  : 

"  Hist !  she's  not  here — she's  not  in  the  house.** 

No  answer  being  returned,  the  voice  repeated  its  call,  and 
even  whistled — a  low,  shrill,  peculiar  whistle.  But  again,  no 
answer  being  returned,  Tighe  heard  the  window  closed. 

Fearing  now  to  rap  up  Moira  and  his  mother,  lest,  while 
responding  to  his  summons,  they  might  encounter  the  robber 
which  Tighe  deemed  the  owner  of  the  voice  to  be,  he  waited 
with  wildly  beating  heart  and  trembling  limbs  for  further  de- 
velopments. The  developments  came  in  a  few  moments, 
in  the  bold  opening  of  the  front  door  by  the  supposed  robber, 
and  in  the  same  instant  a  man  started  up  from  the  side  of  the 
house,  against  which  he  had  been  crouched.  The  moon,  par* 


4g4  CARROLL  VDONOQEUK 

tially  emerged  from  a  cloud,  just  revealed  the  outlines  of  hit 
form,  and  Tighe,  calling  to  his  companions,  grappled  with  the 
man  in  the  doorway.  He  was  opposed  by  monster  strength  ; 
both  fell,  desperately  clinched,  and  rolled  down  the  little 
itoop,  and  out  on  the  walk.  Tighe  heard  his  companions 
scuffling  with  some  one  else,  and  his  collar  was  caught  in 
so  tight  a  grasp  by  his  antagonist  that  he  could  not  shout 
for  aid.  At  length  his  adversary  seemed  to  gain  the  mas- 
tery ;  with  one  stunning  blow  at  Tighe,  he  freed  himself 
and  ran  at  full  speed.  The  moon  was  once  more  fully  out, 
and  it  revealed  his  flying  figure. 

"  After  him  !  "  shrieked  Tighe,  whose  stunned  faculties 
recovered  in  an  instant,  and  picking  himself  up,  and  wait- 
ing only  to  divest  himself  of  his  coat,  he  took  up  the  chase. 

On  they  went,  pursued  and  pursuer, — the  moon  fortunately 
not  entirely  disappearing — down  the  village  street,  on  to  the 
country  road ;  then,  making  a  turn,  they  continued  to  dash 
on  to  where  a  steep,  rugged  descent  led  to  a  deep  hollow 
filled  with  bowlders,  through  which  a  stream  of  water  mean- 
dered at  certain  seasons  of  the  year.  Would  the  robber  keep 
on  to  that — did  he  know  his  danger  ?  or  would  he  stop  him- 
self in  time  ?  No  ;  on  he  went,  and  just  as  the  moon  came 
brilliantly  out,  now  sailing  in  an  unclouded  sky,  he  disappeared 
with  a  wild  cry  over  the  descent.  Tighe,  horrified,  stood  on 
the  summit  and  looked  below.  He  saw  the  man  lying  help- 
less among  the  stones,  and  he  shut  his  ears  to  the  fearful  criei 
and  groans  which  reached  him.  Knowing  that  he  would  be 
unable  to  render  assistance  alone,  he  hurried  back.  His 
companions  had  made  a  capture,  and  Moira  and  Mrs.  Carmody, 
who  had  been  aroused  and  were  sadly  frightened,  now 
encircled  Tighe  for  an  explanation. 

**  Some  o'  you  come  wid  me,"  he  said  ;  "  he's  killed  intoirely, 
I'm  afeered — he  fell  into  the  glen,  an'  his  cries  are  ringin'  in 
me  ears  ! " 

It  was  decided  that  the  prisoner,  who  was  surly  and  who 
refused  to  open  his  mouth,  be  left  in  charge  of  one  of  the 


CONVICTED  AT  LABT.  48S 

stalwart  young  men,  while  the  other  accompanied  Tighe  and 
Mrs.  Carmody,  and  Moira  volunteered  to  go  and  tell  Father 
Meagher. 

"  An'  if  he's  so  badly  hurt  that  he  won't  bear  much  movin', 
where'll  we  take  him  ? "  said  Tighe  ?  "  Oh,  I  have  it ;  I'll 
take  him  into  our  house,  mother — it's  only  a  little  piece  beyant 
where  he's  lyin'." 

All  departed  on  their  various  eriands. 

"  Aisy  ;  even  if  he  is  a  robber,  he  has  a  sowl,"  said  Tigh«,  as 
his  companion  and  himself,  having  scrambled  down  the  descent, 
were  about  lifting  the  writhing,  groaning  form. 

It  was  that  of  a  large,  heavy  man,  and  having  fallen  head 
foremost,  the  face  was  downward.  They  lifted  him  carefully 
and  turned  his  face  to  the  moonlight.  It  was  Mortimer 
Carter.  Tighe,  in  his  surprise,  well-nigh  ceased  his  hold. 

"  Well,  you  ould  sinner,"  he  said,  as  soon  as  he  recovered 
from  his  astonishment  sufficiently  to  speak  ;  "  you've  got  yer 
desarts  at  last,  an'  it's  a  wondher  Almighty  God  didn't  shtrike 
you  afore  !  " 

They  tried  in  vain  to  bear  him  from  the  glen — the  ascent 
was  too  steep  ;  and  though  Tighe  had  felt  confident  of  being 
able  to  do  so,  he  found  now  that  with  every  effort  he  made  he 
but  incurred  the  danger  of  all  three  being  precipitated  back- 
ward. So  Carter  was  placed  gently  upon  the  stones  again, 
his  head  lying  in  Tighe's  lap,  while  Tighe's  companion  went 
to  arouse  some  of  the  people  who  lived  near,  in  order  to  get 
more  effectual  assistance. 

Carter  was  dreadfully  injured  ;  his  arm  and  one  of  his  legt 
seemed  broken,  and  his  face  was  a  frightful  mass  of  blood  and 
bruises,  beside  some  internal  injury  which  caused  a  groan 
with  every  breath. 

"  Mebbe  now  you'll  confiss  all  the  wrong  that  you  done  to 
Lord  Heathcote,"  Tighe  could  not  refrain  from  saying,  "  now, 
when  there's  no  hope  for  you  ;  for  if  you  do  get  over  this, 
which  isn't  loikely,  seein'  the  luk  o'  you  this  minit,  you'll  bt 
thranspoorted  for  the  way  you  broke  into  the  praste's  house." 


4g$  CARROLL  VDONOOHUK 

"  Transported  1 "  said  Carter,  faintly,  and  striving  to  loofc 
up  into  the  face  above  him. 

"Yis;  what  else  would  it  be,"  said  Tighe,  "  wid  all  the 
proof  that's  agin  you  ?  mesel'  an'  the  two  min  that  were  wid 
me  saw  the  whole  o*  it,  an'  the  villain  that  was  wid  you  ii 
taken — he's  a.  prisoner  this  minit,  an'  willin'  enough,  I  guiss, 
to  tell  all  he  knows." 

Tighe  was  not  so  sure  of  the  truth  of  his  last  words,  but, 
with  his  usual  cunning,  he  hazarded  the  remark.  A  deeper 
groan  than  any  he  had  yet  given  issued  from  Carter,  and  a 
worse  agony  than  that  caused  by  his  physical  pain  distorted 
his  features. 

"Will  nothing  save  me  ?"  he  gasped. 

"  Yis,"  said  Tighe,  fairly  trembling  with  the  hope  which  filled 
him,  "  if  you  will  confiss  the  guilt  that  you  denied  in  Lord 
Heathcote's  prisince,  I'll  ingage  that  Father  Meagher'll  not 
prosecute  you  for  this." 

"  I  will  confess,"  gasped  Carter,  "  tell  Father  Meagher  1 
will !  "  and  then,  from  the  combined  Affects  of  pain  and 
exhaustion,  he  fainted. 

"Oh,  blissed  mother  av  God,  kape  him  aloive — don't  let 
him  die  till  he  sets  matthers  roight !  "  prayed  Tighe,  while  he 
kept  an  agonized  watch  on  the  top  of  the  descent  for  a  glimpse 
of  the  aid  he  expected. 

They  came  at  last — a  perfect  array  of  the  neighbors,  and  in 
t  little  while,  by  the  help  of  ropes,  a  chair,  and  sturdy  hands, 
the  still  insensible  Carter  was  borne  up,  and  carried  to  Mrs. 
Carmody's  residence,  where  Father  Meagher  had  just  arrived. 
A  physician  was  summoned,  but,  before  he  came,  Carter  had 
recovered  sufficient  consciousness  to  know  the  clergyman. 
The  latter  had  been  told  by  Tighe  of  the  promises  which  had 
been  made  by  himself  and  the  injured  man. 

"  Will  you  prosecute  me  for  this  act,"  said  Carter,  wildly, 
his  very  agony  giving  him  strength  for  the  moment,  "  if  I 
confess  the  crimes  I  have  committed  ?  " 

"  Confess  your  crimes  for  the  sake  of  your  poor  soul,  MOP. 


CONVICTED  AT  LAST.  .g? 

timer  Carter,"  was  the  priest's  answer  ;  "  seek  the  pardon  of 
your  offended  God  while  there  is  yet  time." 

"  God — pardon — there  is  none  for  me  !  "  shrieked  the 
agonized  wretch. 

"There  is,"  whispered  the  clergyman,  "even  at  this  late 
moment,  if  you  are  sorry  for  the  past,  and  will  make  what 
atonement  may  be  in  your  power." 

"  No,  no,"  screamed  the  despairing  man,  '•  there  is  only 
hell's  fire  for  my  soul ;  see,  see  Marie  Dougherty  !  the  young 
wife  that  I  tore  from  her  home,  that  I  slandered  to  her  hus- 
band— she  taunts  me — she  curses  me  !  Oh  God  !  I  am  damned 
— damned !  " 

It  was  horrible  to  look  at  him  ;  horrible  to  listen  to  his 
ravings.  He  tore  away  the  bandages  which  charitable  hands 
had  put  upon  his  wounds,  and  the  blood  spurted  forth,  caus- 
ing him  to  shriek  and  blaspheme  at  the  sight. 

The  doctor  now  arrived,  and  he  at  once  pronounced  the 
case  hopeless.  The  size  of  the  man  had  rendered  his  internal 
injuries  fatal,  and  a  few  hours  at  most  would  end  his  wretched 
life. 

"  Die  !  "  he  said,  when  Father  Meagher  whispered  his  dan- 
ger in  his  ear,  and  besought  him  to  prepare  for  his  end  : 
"  who  says  that  I  shall  die  ?  " 

He  would  have  forced  himself  erect  in  the  bed,  but  they 
held  him  down. 

"I  tell  you  I  have  years  of  life  before  me,  only  do  not 
prosecute  me — tell  me,  Father  Meagher,  that  you  will  not !  " 
and  he  tried  to  clutch  the  priest,  who  was  standing  by  his 
bedside. 

The  clergyman  whispered  that  he  would  not,  and  the  dying 
man  became  quieter,  during  which  time  Father  Meagher 
»eized  the  opportunity  to  say  : 

"  Carter,  are  you  willing  to  do  justice  to  those  you  have 
wronged  ?  will  you  state  now,  in  the  presence  of  witnesses, 
that  Marie  Dougherty  was  innocent  of  all  that  you  said  of 
her  ?  that  the  story  which  Rick  of  the  Hills  told  of  youi 
crimes  is  all  true  ?  " 


488 


CARROLL  &DONOGHUK. 


u  Yes,  yes !  "  was  the  faint  response. 

"  Will  you  let  me  take  down,  from  your  lips,  such  facts  u 
may  be  required  to  convince  Lord  Heathcote  of  the  innocence 
of  his  wife  ;  and  will  you  swear  to  them  in  the  presence  of 
the  witnesses  I  shall  call  ?  " 

44 1  will" 

All  were  summoned  within  the  room — Carroll,  who  had 
now  arrived,  Tighe  a  Vohr,  his  mother  and  two  of  the  neigh- 
bors who  had  been  foremost  in  helping  the  injured  man,  and 
Father  Meagher,  rapidly  jotting  down  the  brief  facts  which 
were  necessary  to  convince  Lord  Heathcote ;  Carter  was 
assisted  to  rise,  and  his  feeble  hand  was  guided  while  he  af- 
fixed his  dying  mark  to  the  paper  ;  then  were  appended  the 
signatures  of  the  witnesses.  After  that  he  sunk  into  a  fevered 
slumber.  Father  Meagher,  with  crucifix  in  hand,  knelt  beside 
him,  striving  with  Heaven  that  contrition  might  be  vouchsafed 
this  wretched  soul.  He  woke  to  know  the  priest  for  an  in- 
stant, then  to  glare  at  him  with  eyes  whose  look  the  clergyman 
never  forgot,  and  to  give  such  an  unearthly  scream  that  every 
one  within  reach  of  the  sound  was  startled,  and  then,  with 
one  wild  gasp,  to  die — unshriven,  unrepentant,  the  soul  o4 
Mortimer  Carter  had  gone  to  its  Maker. 


CHAPTER  LIX 

A   HAPPY    RESTORATION. 

Tmt  two  funerals  took  place  on  the  same  day ;  but  wkila 
Rick  of  the  Hills  was  followed  to  the  grave  by  sincerely 
mourning  hearts,  Mortimer  Carter  was  laid  in  the  ground 
without  a  regret  being  passed  above  his  coffin,  and  with  only 
the  prayer  said  over  his  remains  that  charity  prompted.  The 
money  for  which  he  had  toiled  and  schemed,  for  which  he  had 
sacrificed  his  soul,  having  no  one  to  claim  it,  reverted  to  that 
government  whose  spy  and  informer  he  had  been. 

His  accomplice  in  the  surreptitious  entrance  to  Father 
Meagher's  house,  who  was  no  other  than  Thade,  Carter's  paid 
spy,  being  told  of  Carter's  death,  and  hoping  to  obtain  some 
mitigation  of  the  punishment  due  to  his  own  crime,  made  a 
frank  confession.  On  that  night  which  had  resulted  so  dis- 
astrously for  Carter,  the  latter,  not  knowing  that  Marie  had 
gone  to  the  home  of  Rick  of  the  Hills,  to  be  absent  until 
morning,  had  stolen  after  midnight  to  the  pastoral  residence, 
and  noiselessly  cutting  a  pane  from  one  of  the  kitchen  win- 
dows, the  blinds  of  which  Moira  habitually  kept  unfastened, 
he  had  found  it  easy  to  insert  his  hand  and  loosen  the  clasp 
which  held  the  window  down  ;  that  done,  he  had  raised  the 
sash  and  entered  the  kitchen,  while  his  companion  waited 
without.  His  purpose  had  been  to  drug  every  sleeper  that 
he  found  in  the  house,  and  Ihen,  with  the  insensible  form  of 
Marie  in  his  arms,  to  walk  boldly  out  of  the  front  door,  which 
he,  being  within,  would  have  little  difficulty  in  opening.  He 
intended  to  have  borne  her  to  a  vehicle  that,  in  the  charge  of 
another  hired  accomplice,  waited  a  little  distance  up  theroad^ 
and  the  driver  of  which,  at  the  first  sound  of  Tighe's  voict 
(489) 


CARROLL  O'DONOOHUR 

calling  to  his  companions,  had  whipped  up  his  horse  and  es- 
caped ;  Thade  gave  his  name  and  description,  but  the  officers 
of  the  law  were  unable  to  find  him. 

Thade's  punishment  was  mitigated  through  the  merciful 
interposition  of  Father  Meagher,  and  the  fellow  in  his  grati- 
tude promised  with  apparent  sincerity  to  reform  his  evil 
ways. 

Father  O'Connor  was  summoned  to  Dhrommacohol,  and 
just  as  he  had  heard  a  full  account  of  Carter's  death  a  letter 
came  from  Walter  Berkeley,  he  who  had  been  so  well  known 
as  Captain  Dennier.  The  letter  contained  an  alarming  ac- 
count of  Lord  Heathcote's  failing  health,  and  Father  Meagher, 
perceiving  Marie's  eyes  fill  with  tears,  and  Father  O'Connor 
look  troubled,  said,  with  his  hand  on  the  young  priest's 
shoulder  : 

"  Charlie — forgive  me — William,  it  is  but  just  that  you  all, 
father  and  children,  should  meet  once  more  ;  you  and  Marie 
be  yourselves  the  bearers  to  his  lordship  of  this  paper  signed 
by  Carter ;  I  shall  telegraph  to  the  Bishop  for  leave  of  ab- 
sence for  you,  and  Father  McShane  will  go  down  to  your 
place  until  his  grace  sends  a  substitute." 

Marie  hailed  the  proposition  with  frantic  delight ;  the  young 
priest,  with  some  misgiving  as  to  whether  it  was  quite  his 
duty  to  leave  his  beloved  parish  for  the  sake  of  visiting  a  par- 
ent who  had  even  doubted  the  evidence  of  his  own  heart ; 
and  Carroll  looked  with  blank  dismay  at  the  prospect  of  a 
separation  from  his  affianced,  short  though  it  might  be  ;  he 
would  have  accompanied  her,  but  Father  Meagher  said 
quietly : 

"  No,  Carroll ;  this  affair  comprises  a  time  and  a  place  upon 
which  you  must  not  intrude — Lord  Heathcote's  family  must 
be  alone  until  this  dreadful  business  is  finished." 

So  the  brother  and  sister  departed,  first  telegraphing  the 
time  of  their  start  from  Dhrommacohol,  and  that  they  bore 
important  news.  What  was  their  surprise,  on  their  arrival'  in 
London,  to  be  met  by  a  servant  in  livery  who  mentioned  theii 


A  HAPPY  RESTORATION.  49, 

names,  asking  respectfully  if  he  was  correct.  Being  answered 
in  the  affirmative,  he  requested  them  to  follow  him ;  he  led 
the  way  to  an  emblazoned  carriage,  drawn  by  two  magnifi- 
cent horses. 

"  Mr.  Berkeley  sent  it  for  you,"  said  the  liveried  servant ; 
and  with  wondering  looks  at  each  other,  the  brother  and  sis- 
ter took  their  seats  within  the  handsome  vehicle. 

Could  that  be  their  destination — that  palatial  edifice  before 
which  the  carriage  stopped  ?  It  was,  for  Berkeley  himself,  too 
impatient  to  wait,  at  the  first  sound  of  the  wheels  grating  on 
the  space  before  the  house  had  come  forth,  and  was  descend- 
ing the  broad  stone  steps.  Another  moment,  and  he  was  em- 
bracing his  brother  and  sister.  He  drew  them  within  the 
house,  so  excited,  so  eager  to  tell  them  his  news  that  he  could 
hardly  wait  to  hear  their  tidings  ;  and  when  he  heard,  when 
he  held  the  paper  and  saw  upon  it  that  blotted  mark — the 
hand  had  been  so  weak  that  made  it — when  he  read  the  sig- 
natures of  the  witnesses,  he  fell  upon  his  knees  and  said 
aloud  : 

"  My  God  !  I  thank  Thee." 

Rising,  he  told  them  how  on  the  receipt  of  their  telegram 
he  had  acquainted  his  father  with  the  facts,  and  the  suffering 
nobleman — already  strangely  softened  because  of  that  very 
suffering,  and  yearning,  as  he  felt  his  death  approaching,  for 
another  sight  of  his  children — broke  forth  into  joyful  expres- 
sions at  the  unexpected  news,  acknowledging  to  Walter  that 
for  the  last  few  days  he  had  been  struggling  with  himself  to 
subdue  his  pride  and  send  for  them. 

"  I  shall  go  to  him  now,"  said  young  Berkeley,  "  and  tell 
him  all ;  and  in  the  meantime  you  can  rest,  and  partake  of 
some  refreshment." 

He  rung  for  a  servant  to  conduct  his  guests  to  separate 
suites  of  private  apartments,  and  he  repaired  to  Lord  Heath- 
cote.  In  a  comparatively  short  time,  however,  he  rejoined 
his  brother  and  sister — his  face  aglow,  his  form  so  violently 
trembling  that  his  very  voice  quivered  : 


49,  CARROLL  aDONOGHUR 

*  Come,*'  he  said,  seizing  a  hand  of  each  ;  "  he  knows  all, 
and  he  is  convinced — he  yearns  for  you,  he  waits  to  clasp  you 
both  ! " 

Yes,  there  he  stood  in  the  center  of  his  private  apartment, 
actually  standing,  though  his  feeble  strength  had  not  permit- 
ted him  to  assume  that  position  for  days  before — his  arms 
outstretched,  his  stern  face  now  softened  to  inimitable  tender- 
ness by  suffering  and  the  wild  yearning  of  his  long-pent 
heart,  and  his  voice  crying :  "  Come  !  my  children — my  chil- 
dren I "  He  encircled  them  both,  he  pressed  each  in  turn  to 
his  heart,  but  it  was  to  Marie  his  longest  and  fondest  caress 
was  given.  "  My  darling  !  my  darling  !  "  he  murmured  ;  "  it 
is  as  if  my  lost  one  had  returned  to  me — my  poor,  injured, 
slandered  lost  one  ! " 

His  sudden  strength  gave  way,  and  he  was  borne  to  his 
bed,  but  with  his  children  about  him  :  Marie's  hand  perform- 
ing for  him  the  tender  offices  she  had  so  often  performed  for 
the  sick  and  lonely  poor. 

With  the  next  day  came  a  transient  return  of  strength,  and 
while  it  lasted  the  nobleman  would  work.  Lawyers  and 
friends  whose  friendship  he  had  tested,  and  whom  he  wanted 
now  to  serve  as  witnesses,  came  in  obedience  to  his  summons, 
and  the  story  of  his  Irish  marriage,  with  the  legitimacy  of  his 
three  children,  and  their  right  and  heirship  to  his  property, 
were  for  the  first  time  given  to  the  English  public  ;  then  the 
matter  of  his  will  was  settled — his  title,  with  the  bulk  of  the 
property,  would  descend  to  Walter,  who  was  the  elder  twin 
brother  ;  the  remainder  of  the  estate,  comprising  a  much 
larger  portion  than  Marie  dreamed  of,  would  be  divided  be- 
tween her  and  Father  O'Connor,  now  compelled  to  assume 
his  true  name  of  Berkeley.  When  all  was  completed  Lord 
Heathcote  laid  his  head  on  the  pillow  again  with  an  air  of 
intense  relief. 

Walter  wrote  a  faithful  account  of  all  to  the  anxious  dear 
ones  in  Dhrommacohol,  adding  that,  as  his  father's  death 
seemed  so  near,  his  guests  would  remain  until  the  end. 


A  HAPPY  RESTORATION.  49j 

The  end  did  take  place,  but  not  as  the  young  priest  and 
Marie  had  devoutly  prayed  and  wished — Lord  Heathcote  did 
not  die  a  Catholic  ;  though  expressing  himself  satisfied  that 
his  children  should  be  of  the  faith  of  their  mother,  he  persisted 
in  his  determination  to  die  in  that  creed  in  which  he  had  been 
reared.  So,  even  with  his  priestly  son  at  his  bedside  tenderly 
holding  one  of  his  hands,  the  Episcopal  clergyman  came  and 
read  the  prayers  prescribed  by  the  Church,  and  the  old  no- 
bleman breathed  forth  his  soul  in  one  of  his  efforts  to  respond. 

Carroll  and  Clare,  now  deeming  it  a  duty  to  join  their 
bereaved  friends,  arrived  in  London  in  time  for  the  courtly 
funeral ;  and  when  the  obsequies  were  over,  and  everything 
pertaining  to  the  strange  events  which  had  been  made  public 
regarding  Lord  Heathcote's  early  life  was  arranged,  then  ail 
turned  their  faces  once  more  to  Ireland. 


CHAPTER  LX 
CORNY  O'TOOLE  is  SATISFIED. 

TH*  little  village  of  Dhrommacohol  seemed  to  have  loft 
hi  identity  in  the  gala  place  which  it  had  become — it  was  so 
utterly  unlike  its  former  staid,  quiet  self.  Excitement  ran  so 
high  within  it,  owing  to  the  many  strange  events  that  were 
taking  place  —Miss  Berkeley,  regarded  as  the  angel  of  the  little 
district  because  of  her  kindness  to  the  poor,  turning  out  to  be 
the  daughter  of  an  English  lord,  and  about  to  wed  young 
Carroll  O'Donoghue,  the  darling  and  idol  of  all  his  tenantry  ; 
then  Carroll's  sister — equally  loved  with  himself,  though  she 
was  not  noted  for  the  gentleness  which  marked  her  friend, 
Marie, — about  to  marry  Marie's  brother,  now  bearing  a  title, 
and  the  possessor  of  a  vast  English  estate,  and  better  than 
all,  reported  to  have  become  a  Catholic  in  faith  and  practice. 
In  addition  to  these  startling  facts,  there  was  still  another  : 
that  of  Father  O'Connor  being  now  Father  Berkeley,  and  the 
son,  also,  of  this  great  English  lord.  People  wondered  some- 
what if  the  wealth  which  report  said  was  now  his  would  make 
any  difference  in  his  simple  style  of  living.  In  a  little  while 
they  were  answered  :  the  aid  which  poured  into  every  impov- 
erished cabin,  which  provided  for  the  sick  and  the  ignorant, 
which  lessened  not  a  mite  of  the  economy  of  his  own  house- 
hold, told  of  one  who  in  wealth,  as  in  poverty,  would  follow 
in  his  Master's  steps. 

Both  weddings  were  to  take  place  on  the  same  day.  Father 
Meagher,  assisted  by  Fathers  Berkeley  and  McShane,  was  to 
perform  the  ceremony  in  the  little  parish  chapel  of  Dhrom- 
macohol ;  immediately  after,  the  bridal  parties  were  to  start 
for  London,  in  which  city  Walter  Berkeley — now  holding  hii 
(494) 


COUNT  VTOOLR  IS  SATISFIED.  49j 

father's  title  of  Lord  Heathcote — and  his  wife,  who  would  b« 
Lady  Heathcote,  intented  to  make  their  home  during  certain 
seasons  of  the  year. 

So  it  was  little  wonder  that  the  whole  village  of  Dhromma- 
cohol  was  aroused,  and  in  such  a  state  of  joyous  excitement 
that  even  old  Ned  Maloney,  the  miser,  who  was  yet  alive  and 
pursuing  his  ostensible  trade  in  his  general  shop,  was  noticed 
by  parties  who  entered  his  dingy  place  to  be  more  gracious 
than  usual — it  might  be  owing  to  the  stir  given  by  approach- 
ing events  to  even  the  little  business  he  conducted.  Disgust- 
ed  and  alarmed  by  the  deception  practiced  upon  him  regard- 
ing the  first  and  only  race  in  which  he  had  ever  engaged,  he 
had,  on  recovering  his  horse,  availed  himself  of  the  first  op- 
portunity to  sell  the  animal,  and  to  discharge  the  groom,  Arty 
Moore. 

The  only  visage  that  was  somewhat  lengthy  was  that  of 
Tighe  a  Vohr. 

"  Faith,  Moira,"  he  said  one  day,  just  a  week  before  the 
eventful  day  of  the  weddings,  "  it's  a  burnin'  shame,  afther 
all  me  good  behavior,  that  Father  Meagher  won't  as  much  as 
tip  me  a  wink  to  let  me  know  that  he's  aware  o'  me  impatience 
in  this  matther  o'  our  coortship — he  jist  purtinds  to  be 
noticin'  nothin' !  an'  the  same  toime  sure  the  whole  o'  Dhrom- 
macohol  can  see  that  I'm  dyin'  about  you.  Now  it's  hard  to 
be  thrated  in  this  manner,  an'  I  lave  it  to  yersel',  Moira,  if  1 
haven't  been  as  sober,  an'  as  dutiful,  an'  as  attintive  for  the 
past  two  months  as  you'd  wish  me  to  be — haven't  I  left  off 
all  me  wild  thricks  ?  " 

"  Indeed  you  have,  Tighe  !  "  said  Moira  warmly  ;  "  and  I 
undertook  to  tell  uncle  something  about  it  last  night." 

"  An'  what  did  he  say,  darlin'  ?  "  And  Tighe  leaned  for- 
ward with  bated  breath  to  catch  her  answer. 

"  Why,  he  said  that  you  hadn't  been  tested  enough  yet- 
that  I  must  wait  until  you  were  more  settled  down,  and  until 
he  could  be  sure  that  you  would  abstain  from  liquor." 

Tighe  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  disappointed  and  crestfallea 


49« 


CARROLL 


*  Well  now,  that's  moighty  hard,  wid  me  heart  breakin*  fot 
you  the  way  it  is  !  but  niver  moind  ;  it's  far  off  God  sinds, 
an'  mebbe  He'd  sind  a  bit  o*  luck  to  us  afore  the  wake  if 
out." 

His  hope  was  realized,  for  on  the  evening  of  that  same 
day,  meeting  Carroll  and  Clare  together  and  unaccompanied 
— as  on  most  other  occasions  they  were, — by  the  young 
Lord  Heathcote  and  Marie,  Tighe  stopped  them  to  ask  a 
favor. 

"Granted  before  you  ask  it,  Tighe,"  said  Carroll  laugh- 
ingly, "  even  to  the  half  of  my  estate,  my  faithful  fellow  !  " 

"  No,  Mr.  O'Donoghue,  it  isn't  anything  loike  that  I  want ; 
it's  to  ax  you  to  get  something  for  me  that  will  make  me 
happier  than  the  whole  o'  yer  estate  could  do.  You  see, 
Masther  Carroll,  me  heart  is  breakin'  wid  love  o'  Moira 
Moynahan,  an'  Father  Meagher  thinks  I'm  not  shteady 
enough  to  get  her,  though  I've  been  on  me  good  behavior 
so  shtrict  that  I  didn't  as  much  as  give  one  crooked  luk 
this  while  back.  Now,  mebbe  if  you'd  give  Father  Mea- 
gher this  characther  o'  me,  an'  at  the  same  toime  puttin'  in 
a  coaxin'  word  to  hilp  the  matther,  an'  mebbe  if  Miss  O'Don- 
oghue would  do  the  same,  things  would  come  roight  for  poor 
Moira  an'  me." 

Carroll  laughed  heartily,  and  Clare  joined  him  in  the  burst 
of  merriment.  "  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  this  before  ?  "  he 
said. 

"  Beikase  I  thought  his  riverince,  seein*  me  efforts  to  do 
betther,  an'  me  melancholy  luks,  would  take  pity  on  me,  an* 
tell  me  from  himsel'  that  I  moight  have  Moira." 

"  Well,  well,  Tighe,  make  yourself  content — I  think  I  can 
manage  it  for  you." 

u  Thank  you,  Masther  Carroll ;  you  were  niver  yet  wantin' 
in  settlin'  a  difficulty !  "  And  Tighe  a  Vohr  departed,  so 
light-hearted  that  his  joyful  spirits  would  find  vent  in  a 
merry  refrain.  That  evening  he  was  summoned  to  Fathei 
Meagher's  study. 


CORNY  &TOOLE  18  SATISFIED. 

497 

"  Now,  Tighe,"  said  the  priest,  assuming  a  severity  to  make 
his  words  the  more  impressive,  "  if  I  consent  to  your  marriage 
with  -my  niece  Moira,  remember  that  I  shall  be  confiding  to 
you  care  the  only,  and  to  me  the  dearest,  relic  of  my  family  ; 
she  is  young  and  guileless,  and  unfit  to  cope  with  the  trouble 
which  an  unsteady  husband  would  bring  upon  her." 

"I  know  that,  yer  riverince,  but  marriage'll  make  a  man  o' 
me."  And  Tighe  a  Vohr  straightened  himself,  and  looked 
with  clear,  frank  eyes  into  the  priest's  face.  "  It  will  be  the 
dearest  task  o'  me  loife,  yer  riverince,  to  protect  ivery  hair  o' 
her  head." 

44  Well,  Tighe,  if  you  will  promise  to  be  as  true  to  her  in- 
terests as  you  have  been  to  those  of  your  young  master,  Car- 
roll O'Donoghue,  I  shall  be  satisfied." 

"  Oh,  thin,  I  can  shwear  to  that,  yer  riverince — you'll  niver 
have  cause  to  regret  givin'  Moira  Moynahan  to  Tighe  a  Vohr  ! " 

44  Then  God  bless  you,  Tighe  ;  and  may  He  ever  keep  you 
faithful  to  Him  ! " 

The  priest's  hand  was  raised  in  blessing,  which  Tighe, 
deeply  affected,  knelt  to  receive.  Then  Father  Meagher  said  : 

"Send  Moira  to  me — I  have  something  to  say  to  her." 

With  a  light  heart  he  sought  the  young  girl,  and  in  the  ex- 
uberance of  his  joy,  when  he  had  told  her  the  good  news,  for- 
getting that  he  had  not  yet  the  right  which  alone  would  make 
Moira  grant  him  the  privilege,  he  would  have  caught  her  to 
him  and  pressed  a  kiss  upon  her  forehead,  but  she,  with  in- 
•tinctive  delicacy,  drew  herself  back  : 

u  You  forget,  Tighe,  we  are  not  married  yet." 

44  Thrue  for  you,  darlin',  an'  I  loike  you  the  betther  for  yer 
modesty." 

But  when  she  had  gone,  and  he  was  alone  with  Shaun,  feel- 
ing that  he  must  give  vent  somehow  to  his  wild  emotions,  he 
caught  up  the  dog,  much  to  the  animal's  astonishment,  and 
gave  to  it  the  embrace  he  would  have  fain  bestowed  on 
Moira. 

*  Shaun,  agra !  sure  we  were  niver  in  such  luck  :  marriag* 


49g  CARROLL  VDONOQHU& 

afore  us,  an*  oceans  av  joy  !  Oh,  how'll  we  contain  oursel'i 
at  all,  at  all  ?  " 

And  Shaun  was  hugged  until  the  poor  brute,  fond  as  he 
was  of  his  master,  fain  would  free  himself. 

Had  Carroll  O'Donoghue  his  wish,  he  would  have  had  the 
wedding  of  Tighe  a  Vohr  occur  at  the  precise  time  of  his  own, 
but  Father  Meagher  refused  to  have  it  so,  saying  that  it  would 
be  better,  and  that  the  young  couple  themselves  would  prefer 
to  have  a  very  quiet  ceremony  when  the  other  bridal  parties 
had  gone  to  London.  So  it  was  arranged  ;  and  the  important 
day  arrived  on  which  four  faithful  hearts  were  to  be  ^united. 

The  ceremony  was  quiet  and  simple,  devoid  of  showy  cos- 
tumes and  magnificent  wedding  favors  ;  the  ostentation  con- 
sisted rather  in  munificent  gifts  to  the  poor,  in  lavish  hospitality 
to  the  tenantry;  and  true  blessings  went  up  from  simple, 
earnest  hearts,  and  grateful  God-speeds,  which  bore  an  omen 
of  good  in  the  very  manner  of  their  utterance,  followed  the 
wedded  couples. 

Never  were  there  two  more  beautiful  brides — the  very  sim- 
plicity of  their  costumes  enhancing  physical  charms  which 
derived  not  a  little  of  their  beauty  from  the  loveliness  of  the 
pure  souls  within. 

Father  Berkeley  was  the  last  to  receive  their  adieus,  and  to 
his  sister  he  turned  for  the  final  embrace.  He  held  her  to 
him ;  it  was  the  first  time  his  mortified  heart  would  permit 
him  so  fond  a  caress. 

"  Marie  !  "  he  whispered,  "  to  your  noble  sacrifice  is  due 
all  our  happiness.  Heaven  has  well  rewarded  your  devotion 
to  duty.  May  He  in  whose  footsteps  you  have  sought  to  fol- 
low ever  keep  and  guide  you  !  " 

One  kiss  upon  her  forehead,  one  more  touch  of  his  beloved 
hand,  and  he  turned  away,  while  she,  weeping  with  joy  and 
gratitude,  stepped  into  the  carriage  in  waiting. 

The  quiet  little  wedding  ceremony  which  Father  Meagher 
denied  for  his  niece  was  performed,  and  Tighe'g  "  best  man  * 


CORNY  &TOOLE  IS 

had  been  Corny  O'Toole.  Tighe,  however,  had  stipulated 
with  Corny  that  he  must  permit  himself  to  be  dressed  in 
accordance  with  Tighe's  taste,  and  the  latter  man,  too  happy 
in  the  prospect  of  an  opportunity  to  be  near  Mrs.  Carmody, 
willingly  asgented.  The  result  was  that  Corny  appeared  to 
better  advantage  than  he  ever  had  done  before,  although 
pretty  Moira,  excited  as  she  was  with  joyful  anticipation, 
could  not  help  laughing  at  his  odd  little  figure,  and  wrinkled, 
ill-featured  face. 

Cathleen  Sullivan  and  Mrs  Kelly,  with  fragile  Hartley  Dono- 
van— the  latter  growing  more  fragile,  and  at  the  same  time  more 
beautiful  every  day — were  also  present,  with  many  of  Tighe'f 
old  friends  and  acquaintances. 

At  the  repast  which  followed  the  ceremony,  Father  Meagher 
presided,  and  a  merrier  party  had  never  assembled.  In  the 
midst  of  a  temporary  lull  which  had  followed  the  ebullition  of 
mirth  caused  by  one  of  Father  Meagher's  excellent  witty 
stories,  the  company  were  suddenly  and  amusingly  electrified 
by  Corny  O'Toole — who  had  contrived  to  be  seated  next  to 
Mrs.  Carmody — rising  and  saying  with  his  hand  on  his  heart  : 

"  Understand  me,  Mrs.  Carmody  ;  I  never  meant  to  have 
you  remove  your  affections  from  the  cold  grave  of  your 
lamented  husband  ;  if  it  is  any  satisfaction,  ma'am,  to  have 
them  remain  there,  Corny  O'Toole  is  not  the  man,  no,  Mrs. 
Mollie  Carmody,  Corny  O'Toole  is  not  the  man  to  ask  you  to 
remove  them  ! " 

The  words,  the  look,  the  attitude  of  the  little  man,  together 
with  Mrs.  Carmody's  flushed  and  indignant  face,  convulsed 
the  assemblage.  Roar  after  roar  shook  the  table,  in  the  midst 
of  which  Father  Meagher's  hearty  laugh  could  be  distin- 
guished ;  he  remembered  the  episode  of  Mrs.  Carmody's  love- 
letter,  and  it  made  his  mirth  the  heartier,  while  Tighe  a  Vohr, 
laughing  as  loudly  as  the  rest,  thought  within  himself  : 

"  Poor  Corny  has  proposed  to  me  mother  at  last,  an'  I'm 
afeerd  he's  got  his  final  answer." 

Quiet  was  restored  at  length,  and  Mr.  O'Toole  humbly  »ay. 


SOQ  CARROLL  &DONOGUUB. 

ing  that,  as  he  now  was  convinced  of  Mrs.  Carmody's  sentt 
ments,  he  would  no  longer  annoy  her  by  an  offer  of  himself 
that  indignant  lady  consented  to  pardon  him  ;  and  when  ht 
explained  further  to  the  company  how  the  unbounded  admi- 
ration which,  from  his  earliest  manhood,  he  held  for  Mistress 
Mollie  Carmody,  would  descend  unchanged  with  him  to  the 
grave,  she  deigned  to  be  exceedingly  friendly,  thus  cheering 
the  little  man's  heart,  and  the  perfect  peace  and  pleasure  of 
the  party  were  restored. 

On  their  short  wedding  trip  to  Tralee,  Tighe  and  his  pretty 
young  bride  were  one  day  confronted  in  the  street  by  a  couple 
whose  faces  were  familiar  to  Tighe,  and  the  sight  of  which 
brought  back  some  of  the  amusing  incidents  of  his  life.  They 
were  Joe  Canty,  the  sporting  man,  and  the  fair,  stout  Widow 
Moore.  Evidently  from  their  manner  to  each  other  they  were 
husband  and  wife  ;  and  Tighe,  looking  at  them  with  a  roguish 
twinkle,  was  met  by  a  glance  of  haughty  contempt  from 
Canty. 

"  I  supposed  he  learned  all  about  the  thrick  I  once  played 
on  him,"  said  Tighe  to  Moira,  "  an'  that's  the  rayson  he  gey 
suck  a  luk  whin  he  passed."  And  thereupon  Tighe  told  the 
whole  story  of  the  race  which  had  resulted  so  disastrously  for 
Mr.  Canty,  concluding  with  a  humorous  detail  of  the  decep- 
tion regarding  the  Widow  Moore  which  he  had  practiced  on 
the  soldier  Garfield,  and  Moira  was  so  convulsed  with  laughter 
that  she  was  obliged  to  lower  her  veil 

Weeks  passed,  marked  by  no  sad  event  save  the  death  of 
Bartley  Donovan,  and  that  was  so  like  the  end  of  some  fair, 
youthful  saint,  that  even  those  who  loved  him  best  could 
scarcely  regret  his  demise.  With  his  hand  in  Cathleen's,  with 
his  eyes  fixed  upon  her  face,  he  had  said  with  one  ol  hii 
exquisite  smiles : 

"  Do  you  think  I  shall  see  that  Heaven  you  used  to  tell  me 
to  much  about— and  that  dear  God,  and  his  blessed  mother  ?M 

His  lips  and  his  eyes  had  closed  simultaneously  with  th« 
•Iterance  of  the  last  words,  and  with  one  gentle  sigh  he  had 


CORNY  V TOOLS  18  SATISFIED.  Jo| 

Father  Meagher,  hardly  thinking  that  the  end  was  so  near 
and  yet  prompted  by  a  singular  impulse,  had  brought  him  the 
Viaticum  scarcely  an  hour  before.  Mrs.  Kelly  would  no 
longer  detain  Cathleen  from  the  desire  of  her  heart — to  con- 
secrate herself  to  God  in  religion  ;  and  as  the  good  woman 
herself  had  been  offered  a  permanent  and  lucrative  position  in 
the  home  of  Carroll  O'Donoghue,  and  nothing  now  remained 
to  keep  the  young  girl,  the  latter  gladly  availed  herself  of  the 
opportunity.  Marie,  or  Mrs.  O'Donoghue,  on  being  told  of 
Cathleen's  desire,  insisted  on  furnishing  a  munificent  dower. 

Mrs.  Carmody  had  taken  the  place  of  Moira  in  Father 
Meagher's  household,  and  Corny  O'Toole  was  quietly  living 
his  old  obscure  life  in  Tralee ;  but  he  sometimes  cheered 
himself  by  a  visit  to  his  Dhrommacohol  friends. 

Tighe  and  Moira  were  the  happy  owners  of  a  pretty  little 
home  on  the  O'Donoghue  domain,  and  Shaun,  faithful  Shaun, 
as  devoted  to  his  master  as  ever,  had  a  most  honored  place  in 
the  household. 

One  morning  the  whole  village  was  electrified  by  the  news 
that  Maloney,  the  miser,  had  been  found  dead  in  his  bed. 
"  Died  widout  praste  or  docther  ! "  was  the  conclusion  of 
every  announcement  of  his  death  made  by  the  simple  folk, 
and  accompanied  by  a  look  which  told  their  horror  of  such 
an  end.  More  money  than  even  people  dreamed  he  possessed 
was  found  in  his  wretched  abode,  and  having  no  one  to  claim 
it,  it  reverted  to  the  government. 

We  leave  them  all  at  last — the  friends  whose  fortunes 
have  accompanied  so  long — happy  in  the  reward  of  that  virtue 
which  sacrificed  no  duty,  and  which  never  forgot  its  allegiance 
to  Him  who  even  in  this  world  so  lovingly  rewards  goodneia, 
mad  so  justly  punishes  crime. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

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